


These Violent Delights

by CupcakeCait



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, Fluff, High School, Jock!Liam, Love Triangles, M/M, Rough Sex, Smut, Twink!Harry, Violence, Zarriam - Freeform, Zirry - Freeform, asshole!zayn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3541646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeCait/pseuds/CupcakeCait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How was it possible that the best night of his life was also the worst? Harry didn't know how it was possible, just that it was. He'd dreamt of it almost every night for years, though some nights it quickly dissolved into a nightmare. Some nights it was both a dream and a nightmare at once, grunts and gasps and moans intermingling with other, angrier types of grunts and gasps and moans, leaving Harry to wake up hard and panting and just as confused and broken as he was that night.</p><p>Which wasn't to say that he hadn't moved on. He had, for the most part. New house, new neighborhood, new school. But Harry's Harry no matter where he is, and he didn't know how to stop thinking about those eyes and how they looked at him and those hands and how they felt on him.</p><p>It'd been three years and he still couldn't forget that night. He still couldn't figure out how to feel about it, but he did know that hiding wasn't doing any good. So he was going back, even if it killed him.</p><p>***</p><p>Zarriam Love Triangle AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Violent Delights

 

***** _These Violent Delights_ *****

 

_Bradford, England, 1994_

 

How was it possible that the best night of his life was also the worst? Harry didn't know how it was possible, just that it was. He'd dreamt of it almost every night for years, though some nights it quickly dissolved into a nightmare. Some nights it was both a dream and a nightmare at once, grunts and gasps and moans intermingling with other, angrier types of grunts and gasps and moans, leaving Harry to wake up hard and panting and just as confused and broken as he was that night.

Which wasn't to say that he hadn't moved on. He had, for the most part. New house, new neighborhood, new school. But Harry's Harry no matter where he is, and he didn't know how to stop thinking about those eyes and how they looked at him and those hands and how they felt on him.

It'd been three years and he still couldn't forget that night. He still couldn't figure out how to feel about it, but he did know that hiding wasn't doing any good. So he was going back, even if it killed him.

 

*******

 

Home. Home is where the heart is. Home is where you can get your heart broken and your face smashed and your ribs bruised. Harry had only been back in Bradford for a few hours when he was jumped, and if he'd been thinking about anything but  _him_ he would have known it was inevitable. He'd told his mum he just wanted to take a walk to see how the neighborhood had changed in his absence, but he was lying. There was only one thing he wanted to see and it wasn't even a thing, it was a person. The person. He knew it wasn't safe to walk alone in this neighborhood, especially if you were Harry Styles, but he was willing to take the risk.

He was hit from behind and went down hard. The blows came immediately, over and over again. He could tell that there was a whole group on him, though he couldn't see them with his arms wrapped protectively around his head. He couldn't see them, but he could feel  _him_ , making Harry's adrenaline compete with the fear flooding his body.  

He ignored the pain and tried to focus on each fist hitting him, convinced that  _his_  hands on his body would feel different, though he knew from experience that they would be just as rough. The punches and kicks continued, for seconds or minutes or hours, Harry wasn't sure, and he was barely holding onto consciousness when a voice cut through the darkness and the pain.  _His_ voice. Harry would remember it anywhere, and it transported him back to that night. He could feel that voice in his bones and in his heart and in the deepest part of him where the fear lived. _  
_

"Stop!" the voice shouted, filling Harry's soul with relief and hurt and want.

The punches and kicks stopped all at once. Everyone listened to that voice, though Harry knew no one truly  _felt_  it like he did. The footsteps retreated and Harry held his breath, hoping to feel  _his_ hands on him again, only gentle this time.

But he felt nothing but a sinking feeling that this beating was just what he deserved. What he had earned by showing up where he wasn't wanted, looking for something he had no right to. And then he felt less than nothing as the numbness crept over him.

"Harry."

Harry jerked awake at the sound, and moved his arms from his face. He saw a figure above him and stilled, knowing who it was even if he couldn't see his face. The light from the streetlamp was making it look like he had a spotlight on him. Like he was some sort of angel sent by God to save Harry's soul. But then Harry blinked and he knew for sure that this was no angel as the face in front of him came into focus.

"Zayn?"

**  
*****

 

"Who the fuck else would it be?" Zayn's rough tone cleared Harry's stupor a bit, and he struggled to sit up, not wanting to look weak in front of him. He couldn't help but moan when he felt the other boy's hands grip him to pull him to his feet. They were just as rough as Harry remembered, and they sent a thrill though him.

"Thanks," Harry said once he was on his feet, feeling unsteady thanks to the beating and Zayn's dark gaze.

"I thought I made it clear that you weren't welcome here," Zayn said, his voice so cold and detached that it made Harry wobble on his feet even more. So he really couldn't be blamed for reaching a hand out to Zayn's shoulder to steady himself. Only he could be blamed, because he knew better. Zayn stiffened at the contact but to Harry's surprise he didn't push him off.

"I had to come back."

"Why? What could possibly be here for you?" Zayn asked, and if Harry wasn't most likely concussed he would have been sure that he saw something flicker in Zayn's eyes.

"I don't know if there's anything for me here. I don't know if there's anything for me anywhere, but I had to come back." Zayn must have realized that he wasn't going to get more of an explanation, because he turned to head out of the alley, wrapping an arm around Harry's waist to help him.

The joy Harry felt was short lived. Zayn dropped his arm and stepped away from him as soon as they were under the streetlamp.

"I don't know why you're here, Harry," Zayn began, and Harry's breath hitched at the sound of his name on those lips, those lips that he had been thinking about for  _years_. "And I don't really give a fuck. But if I hear one word about that night you will regret it."

"That night?" Harry pressed, feeling bold and not wanting Zayn to walk away from him yet.

Zayn pulled Harry back into the shadows and pushed him up against the brick wall with his body. "Don't fuck with me," he warned. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Harry could feel Zayn's breath on his face, and he was sure that the smell of cigarettes and beer wouldn't be nearly as appealing coming from anyone else. His body responded immediately, and his voice was deeper than normal when he responded.

"I remember."

Zayn stared at Harry's mouth as he spoke, and when Harry bit his lower lip Zayn found himself biting his own and involuntarily pushing his hips against the other boy's. Harry's gasp must have startled Zayn though, because he jumped back, not stopping until he hit the other wall.

"I remember too," he breathed before shaking his head and turning to get out of the alley as fast as he could. Harry watched him go, both boys remembering that night and cursing themselves for not being able to forget.

 

 

 

 

*******

 

A few days later it was time for the new school year to begin, and if Harry hadn't known before he knew for sure now that coming back was a bad idea. The school was tiny and rundown, just like the town it sat in, and everyone knew everyone and everyone remembered Harry. But they didn't remember anything good about him, like how he always got perfect marks in English or how he sang a song in the talent show years ago, and he did so well that a few people clapped and  _no one_ booed, which was more than Harry had hoped for.  

No, they remembered that he wore flowers in his hair on the playground when he was little and that he threw up when Zayn punched him in the stomach in the middle of a science lab. They remembered that Janice Bearley swore she saw him get a boner during gym class when they had to climb the rope and that he cried when she pointed it out to everyone. And they must have remembered how much fun it was to knock his books out of his hands and to shove him into lockers, because it had been happening all day.

It wasn't easy being gay in a town like this. A town where people struggled to make ends meet and there were no stoplights or parks but plenty of liquor stores and pawn shops. Girls in Bradford got pregnant by sixteen, fifteen if they were pretty, and the only way for a guy to earn respect was by being good at football or part of the local gang.

So it was pretty obvious to everyone that Harry, who swung his hips when he walked and wore scarves in his hair, didn't belong. He knew he could have made his life easier if he buttoned his shirt all the way up and wore looser jeans and didn't clap his hands whenever he got excited, but he didn't see the point. He would still be Harry and he would still like boys and he still wouldn't fit in. Harry didn't know how to be anyone but himself, and while that might be a trait to admire someplace else, someplace Harry had never been, it didn't do him any good in Bradford.

Harry was in last period and the end of the day was finally in sight when he saw someone who made him sit up a little straighter in his chair. The guy must have been new to the school, or he at least hadn't been there the last time Harry was, because there was no way that Harry would have forgotten him.

He was tan and muscular, with brown hair and chocolate eyes and lips that were so plump that they made Harry forget about those other lips, the ones that he never forgot about, for a minute, just a minute, but  _still_. That minute was enough to make Harry feel things he hadn't for someone new in what felt like forever.  

He knew it was pointless, but he couldn't stop the way his heart rate picked up and the way the hair on the back of his neck prickled when the guy looked over at him. He was sure that it was pointless, that it would only lead to someone new to ridicule him at best and someone new to hit him at worst, but he still couldn't help what he felt.

And then he smiled at Harry and walked over to him, taking the seat next to him, and it felt a little less pointless. And when Harry noticed the student peeking at him out of the corner of his eye during class, and when Harry could swear that he was intentionally walking out of the classroom so close to Harry that their arms brushed again and again, Harry felt something close to hope. And when the new kid stopped next to Harry's locker and held his hand out with a nervous smile on his face Harry started thinking that maybe nothing was pointless after all.

"Hi, I'm Liam."

 

 

 

 

*******

 

"Hi, I'm Liam," the new boy said, and suddenly he wasn't the only new thing in the hallway. Harry felt new too, Liam's ( _what a wonderful name_ , Harry thought,  _strong and cute at the same time, which was the perfect way to describe its owner as well_ ) rich accent and clipped words making Harry feel like he didn't fit in his skin anymore.

Harry knew it was rude but he didn't respond to Liam right away, instead taking a moment to look him up and down up close. He was wearing a white tank and light jeans slung impossibly low on his hips, his ass really, and there was a red bandana sticking out of one of his back pockets. Harry hoped that it didn't mean that he was in a gang, but he was pretty sure it didn't because Liam had a certain energy and lightness to him that felt as far away from gang-like as Harry could imagine. So even though Liam's muscles were big enough that Harry was sure he could bench press him, Harry didn't feel scared for the first time all day.

"Hi Liam, I'm Harry," he finally said, sliding his hand into the bigger boy's.

"Hi Harry. Do you have a nickname? I'm big on nicknames."

"Actually Harry is a nickname. Real name's Harold."

Liam seemed to ponder this for a moment. "I'm going to call you Hazza if that's alright."

Harry smiled at him. "That's alright by me."

And just like that, Harry had the first new friend he'd had in Bradford in years.

It hadn't always been that way. He'd met Zayn on the first day of primary school, when Zayn had pushed Brett Claymore off of Harry on the playground. They'd bonded over their disdain of sports and their pension for the arts, if you could call Zayn's scribbling and Harry's playacting the arts, and they were fast friends.

Their friendship grew in Year 2, when their parents forced them to join the football team. They spent a lot of time on the bench together, Harry due to his two left feet and Zayn due to his inability to take direction from the coach without cussing under his breath. Harry had never even heard some of the words that Zayn spat out, but they sounded foreign and exciting, and they'd spent hours in Harry's bedroom, pretending that they were the bad guys from their favorite movies and coming up with new insults, the crazier the better, until they were rolling around on the floor laughing.

Harry loved the times they'd spent together; the bitching on the bench and the hours at the community pool (the only place that Harry was better than Zayn at something, since he knew how to swim - though he  _never_  made fun of Zayn for it) and the sleepovers and the hours in detention (Zayn for spitballs and Harry for laughing whenever Zayn hit his intended target).

But in Year 3 Zayn got kicked off of the football team for kicking dirt in an opponent's face, and Harry quit as soon as he heard the news, sure that Zayn would appreciate this show of solidarity.

Zayn did not appreciate it, claiming that Harry was too scared to be on the team without him. They didn't talk for days but the tiff was soon put behind them, though their friendship never quite recovered. Harry was too hurt by Zayn's rebuff, and Zayn was too concerned with his new friends. Friends who dressed like he did and who he didn't have work hard to convince to spray paint his neighbor's cats or to steal a candy bar from the corner shop.

By Year 4 Zayn and Harry were only hanging out when no one else was around, and Harry took what he could get.

By Year 5 Zayn was avoiding spending time with Harry even outside of school, and whenever he did see him he'd spend the whole time complaining about how Harry dressed and that Harry never wanted to doing anything that Zayn wanted to do.

By Year 6 Zayn was ignoring Harry completely, which Harry was sure was the worst thing in the world.

By Year 7 he was proven wrong. Zayn and his other friends had stopped ignoring Harry and started picking on him, taunting him and calling him Harriet and a faggot and anything else they could think of to hurt him.

By Year 8 the insults had turned into assaults, and both boys feigned ignorance whenever someone mentioned that they kind of, sort of remembered that Harry and Zayn used to be friends, once upon a time.

Year 8 culminated with  _that night_ , so it wasn't surprising that his mother Anne was a bit shocked to see a smile on her son's face when he walked through the door that evening.

"Did you have a good day at school, Harry?"

"Mum, please. Call me Hazza."

 

*******

 

Liam walked Harry home from school the next day, and Harry didn't think it was fair. It wasn't fair that Liam was talking about how he was the captain of the football team and how he'd transferred to Bradford the year before. It wasn't fair that Liam was talking about everything but  _the thing_.

This was the part of meeting someone new that Harry hated the most. Or at least that was the excuse he gave himself for why he hadn't tried to be with anyone since Zayn, though it was really just that he couldn't imagine himself with anyone but Zayn. It didn't help that Harry was admittedly never good at figuring out who he stood a chance with, not sure what signals meant what.

So while it was great to hear that Liam was single after trying and failing to make his long distance relationship work, when it came to Liam Harry didn't know what was up and what was down. Liam was friendly, yes, but was he being friendly as a friend or as a  _friend_? Harry was clueless, and a little annoyed that Liam wasn't being more straightforward, considering that Harry was most obviously not straight.

He knew that guys who dropped their wrist and had lisps and wore fucking flowers in their hair were obviously twinks, but Liam was big and strong and tough, so it wasn't fair that he wasn't coming right out and telling Harry just who that relationship had been with, and just why exactly he was even talking to Harry.

So Harry was almost glad to have reached his house, and more than glad to be done with the enigma that was Liam Payne, when Liam spoke up.

"So how about you, Hazza, are you dating anyone?" he asked while looking down at the ground. Harry noted that Liam seemed somewhat nervous for the first time all day, and that his shoes had apparently just become incredibly interesting. He smiled at the thought that he might not be the only one treading in unfamiliar waters here.

"Me? Nah, I'm pretty much perpetually single."

"But why? You're gorgeous," Liam said, making Harry's cheeks heat.

"There was this one guy, but..."

Harry was interrupted in the middle of his sentence, which was a good thing really, since he had no idea what he'd been about to say.

"Well well well, what do we have here?"

Harry's head shot up and he immediately locked eyes with Zayn. Of course it had to be Zayn. When Harry looked at him he felt everything that he thought he'd maybe, possibly, been feeling about Liam, but times a million. Harry felt his heart drop, wondering if it would always be this way, what once seemed golden paling in comparison to Zayn, who to Harry shone brighter than any star in the sky.

Zayn was standing with two of his sidekicks and looking thoroughly pissed off, and Harry automatically took a step away from Liam, not wanting Zayn to get the wrong idea.

"I said, what do we have here?" Zayn repeated, a rude edge to his tone.

"Is there a problem?" Liam asked, taking a step towards Zayn. Harry was impressed that Liam didn't seem to be intimidated, but the last thing he wanted was for a fight to break out on his doorstep.

"Just wondering what you're doing here. Don't you live across town?" 

"Yeah, so?" Liam asked.

"So you need to get the fuck off my street," Zayn ordered.

Liam took another step forward until he was within arm's reach of Zayn, but Louis blocked him from getting any closer. Harry had seen the same scenario play out too many times, so he quickly grabbed Liam by the shoulder and pulled him back.

"It's fine, Li, you should probably get home."

Liam turned to Harry. "Are you sure you'll be okay, Hazza?"

"Don't worry,  _Li_ , we'll take good care of  _Hazza_ ," Zayn sneered. Harry's heart skipped a beat at the sound of his new nickname on Zayn's lips, but he tried to focus on Liam.

"I'll be okay. I'm going inside right now," Harry said, opening his front door.

"Okay," Liam said, sounding unsure. "I'll call you as soon as I get home, yeah?"

Harry nodded and closed the door, locking it and running to the window to make sure that Liam got away safely. Liam and Zayn bumped shoulders as he walked past the group, but after a moment of staring after him Zayn and his friends turned away. They headed down the street in the opposite direction, but not before Zayn stole a look over his shoulder at the window where Harry was standing. Harry stared right back, unable to tear his eyes away.

 

*******

 

Around midnight that night Harry awoke from a dream, the dream he always had, to the sound of someone pounding on his front door. He stumbled out of his bedroom and opened the door to see Zayn standing there, looking unsteady on his feet. He was wearing a tight white tank that showed off all of his tattoos - including several that Harry had never seen before that he ached to get a better look at - and he looked so good that it took a moment for Harry to remember how to speak.

"What're you doing here?"

"Your mum's not home, right? Hurry up and let me the fuck in," he demanded, his words slurring. Harry stepped back and Zayn followed, stumbling over the rug in the entryway. Harry paused in the hall but Zayn pushed past him and headed straight for Harry's bedroom.

"It looks just like it used to," he said as he looked around the room that he hadn't been in for years. Three years to be exact.

"I haven't spent much time here since...since I left."

Zayn pulled his gray beanie off as he sat down on the bed. "You know, I still can't believe you actually left," he said quietly, almost as if to himself, his eyes on the bedspread and not on Harry. "When we were kids it didn't matter how far I ran, you always followed. I kept running from you, but you kept following me. I told you a million times in a million different ways to stay away from me, but you never listened."

Zayn finally looked up at Harry, his head swimming. "But that time, that night, you actually listened. Why?"

"I didn't want to go, I didn't, but when I got out of hospital my mum had already packed my bags and it was decided. I didn't even get to come home before she drove me to my dad's."

"I wouldn't actually have hurt you..."

"You already had," Harry insisted, not willing to let Zayn off the hook that easily.

Zayn's eyes closed briefly. He pulled a bottle out of his back pocket and took a long pull, not even grimacing at the bitter taste. He tossed the bottle on the bed and stood up, swaying slightly as he walked towards Harry.

"But now you're back. And you look...different. When did you get so...tall? It's distracting."

"I'm distracting?" Harry asked, voice full of wonder.

"Mmmhmm," Zayn murmured. "It's putting me off of my game."

"What's your game?"

"You know, how nothing gets to me."

"Sure."

"Fuck off, it's true. I don't give a shit about anything," Zayn lied.

"Then why are you here? Why are you at my house, drunk, in the middle of the night?"

Zayn ignored the question. "What's up with you and Payne?"

"We're friends. I just met him."

"That asshole thinks he rules the school just cause he knows how to kick a ball. You shouldn't be friends with him."

Harry laughed. "He said the same thing about you on the phone today."

Zayn took a step closer to Harry. "That prick said that? Why would he say that? What the fuck did you tell him, Harry?" he asked, poking him in the chest.

Harry took a step back but Zayn followed. "Nothing, I didn't tell him anything."

"You better not be lying to me, I swear to God," Zayn threatened, getting right up in Harry's face.

Being this close to Zayn made Harry crazy and stupid and brave. He leaned forward a bit but just as his lips grazed Zayn's he pushed Harry back onto the bed.

"Don't you dare fucking try to kiss me," he growled.

Harry, still crazy and stupid and brave and madly in love, stood back up right in front of Zayn, the craziness and stupidity and bravery still coursing through his body. "And what if I do?"

Harry was taunting Zayn and he knew it was a bad idea but it was the only one he had to keep Zayn close.

"Don't push me, Styles," Zayn ordered, stepping forward until his body was flush against Harry's. But Harry wanted to push him, to push him until he snapped, so he once again leaned forward until his lips were against Zayn's.

The next thing he knew he was on his bed flat on his stomach, Zayn with a hand in his hair and a knee on his back. "Is this what you want, Harry? Do you want me to show you that I own you, that I can do with you whatever I please?"

"Yes," Harry whimpered. Zayn groaned and slid his knee down so that it was between Harry's legs and he was lying on top of the other boy. Harry could feel how hard Zayn was and he bucked back against him to feel more.

"Don't fucking move," Zayn ordered, climbing off of Harry and unbuckling his pants before pulling Harry's down as well. He didn't bother with any formalities, eager to show Harry who was in charge. Harry heard Zayn spit on his hand and a second later he was pushing inside of him, causing Harry to feel like he was being split in half. Harry moaned at the feeling of fullness and grasped at his sheets to anchor himself.

"Yeah, you like that don't you? Say it, tell me how it feels."

"Fuck, it feels amazing. So good, Zayn."

Zayn moaned as he pounded harshly into Harry's tight hole. "Yeah, well I don't give a fuck how it feels to you," he said, but his hands told a different tale as he pulled Harry up on all fours and wrapped a hand around his cock.

Harry moved back against Zayn so that he could go deeper, wanting to be a good boy for him. He had missed the feeling of Zayn's dick inside of him and his hand jerking him off, and his head was spinning in ecstasy. He bit his lip to keep quiet though, not wanting to say anything that would cause the other boy to stop.

Zayn's movements became more irregular as he neared his climax. "Say my name, Harry, say it," he grunted.

"Zayn!" Harry yelled out. "Zayn, you feel so fucking good."

That was all it took for Zayn to come, and feeling him spill into him made Harry come as well. Zayn pulled out immediately and Harry rolled over onto his back, a smile on his face.

"What the fuck are you grinning at?" Zayn barked out as he did up his pants.

"You," Harry answered in that low, slow way of his.

Zayn rolled his eyes and took a step forward. "Not one word of this," he warned, bending down to look Harry right in the eyes. "And if you ever try to kiss me again I'll bite your fucking tongue off."

With that, Zayn was out of the room, leaving Harry alone and confused once again. But he still fell asleep with a smile on his face, having decided a long time ago that, when it came to Zayn, he'd take whatever he could get.

 

*******

 

Harry's heart fluttered when he heard another knock on his front door the next morning. He ignored the pain that shot through his backside and smiled as he went to answer the door with a bounce in his step.  _This_  was the reason that he had moved back home. So that he could feel excited about the possibility of who could be on the other side of the door. While he was away he'd felt dead inside, a zombie that just went through the motions, knowing that no one he truly wanted to see would ever visit him, but now he could barely contain his emotions.

The knock did not belong to the person he'd expected it to, but that didn't stop his heart from continuing to flutter. Harry's smile grew as he became hopeful; hopeful that his heart knew something that he didn't. Hopeful that his heart was finally ready to move on even if his head wasn't.

Liam looked incredibly handsome and so unlike Zayn, what with his bright smile and crinkled eyes, that Harry was taken aback for a moment. Zayn had never looked at him that way, like he was genuinely happy to see him, not once, and Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry over the unfairness of it all. So he did the only thing he could do; he welcomed Liam into his house with open arms.

"Hey, Li! This is a pleasant surprise."

Liam surprised him by giving him a big hug as soon as he got inside, so big that Harry's feet left the ground for a second, and Harry probably hugged him back a little bit too tightly, but it had been forever since someone who wasn't a relative had hugged him, so he couldn't really be blamed for going overboard.

"Sorry for not calling ahead, Hazza. I was just thinking about you all night, and a phone call just wouldn't do," he said into Harry's neck.

Harry felt goosebumps rise up on his arms, both from the feeling of Liam's hot breath against his skin and from the guilt that shot through him. Here was Liam, perfect Liam, who Harry knew was far too good for him, confessing that he'd been thinking about Harry all night long. The same night that Harry had spent with Zayn, not thinking about Liam at all.

"No, it's alright. I'm glad you're here," he told the older boy, and in that moment he meant it. He was very happy to see Liam, much happier than he'd expected to be after the events of the previous night. Harry thought he could always be happy if he was able to spend all of his days with Liam, and all of his nights with Zayn.

They ended up spending the whole day together, just playing video games and watching the telly, and it was all so  _nice_. Liam was nice, their conversation was nice, and overall they had a very nice time. So nice that Harry was a little sad to see Liam leave once it got dark out, and more than a little sad that he didn't try to go for the goodnight kiss.

He thought about Liam as he lied in bed that night. He thought about how good he'd looked in the t-shirt he'd been wearing, and how much he'd wanted to run his hand through Liam's close cropped hair. He thought about how he hadn't been able to stop himself from laughing every time Liam giggled, and about how contagious Liam's energy was. It'd been so easy to talk to him, and Harry hadn't gotten tongue tied or been afraid that he'd say that wrong thing and piss Liam off even once. There'd been no worry that things might go terribly wrong if he made a false move; only hope that good things might happen if he played his cards right.

They'd discovered that, despite their outward appearances, they had a lot in common, from their love of comics to how they both couldn't help but dance whenever they heard a song they liked, and there hadn't been any awkward gaps in their conversation. Liam was a great guy, fit and smart and sexy, and he had an enthusiasm for life that had been beaten out of Harry over the last few years. But around Liam he could feel it coming back, like he was returning to the person he'd been before he'd had his heart and body so badly broken.

Harry was pretty sure that he liked Liam, and he was definitely sure that he'd like to find out if his lips were as soft as they looked. He was sure that he wouldn't taste like cigarettes and alcohol the way that  _some people_  did. No, Liam would probably taste like the cinnamon gum that he'd been chewing all day, and Harry didn't think he'd mind that one bit.

Which is why he had no idea why it was Zayn's face that he saw when he closed his eyes to go to sleep. Zayn, who would never have wanted to spend an entire day just hanging out with him, and who had never, not once, been as kind to him as Liam was. Yet he still fell asleep thinking about Zayn's dark eyes and rough hands, and he still had that dream, the same one that had been haunting him for years.

Maybe his heart wasn't quite as ready to move on as he'd hoped.

 

*******

 

Liam came over the next day too, and by the time school rolled around on Monday morning and Harry found the handsome lad waiting for him by his locker he felt like if they weren't already dating then they might be soon.

He greeted Liam with a big hug, wishing that he had the courage to just kiss him already, and Liam seemed reluctant to let go of Harry so that he could get his books out. Harry smiled when the other boy immediately took those books out of his arms, saying that he wanted to carry them for him. But then Zayn walked by, glaring first at Liam and then at Harry, and Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

He met Liam in between every class, and they played footsie all through lunch. Harry hadn't seen Zayn again, and by the time that school ended and Liam asked if he could walk him home he wasn't thinking about anything but the butterflies in his stomach and the thought that  _this might be it_.

Harry couldn't help but long to kiss Liam's plump lips. How could he, when they looked so inviting, like they were made just for Harry. Their hands brushed a few times on the walk to Harry's, and he wondered what it would feel like to interlock his fingers with Liam's.

He paused when they reached his front stoop, fiddling with his keys just to give Liam the few extra seconds that he hoped he was waiting for to make his move. After a bit of an awkward silence he all but gave up, putting the key in the lock before turning back to say goodbye.

The next thing he knew his face was being cupped by two big hands, strong yet gentle as they caressed his cheeks. Harry kept his eyes open as Liam began to move in, not wanting to miss a thing. But they fluttered shut of their own volition as soon as their mouths met.

Liam's lips were just as soft as Harry had imagined, so soft that he melted into the kiss, his mouth opening without his brain telling it to. Liam's lips parted as well, and a second later Harry felt a tongue against his own.

It felt so good that Harry found himself moving closer to Liam, gripping his shirt with both hands as he pressed their bodies together. Liam felt big and strong against him, and he couldn't help but moan as Liam slid a hand down to the small of Harry's back to bring him even closer.

Liam tasted like cinnamon and something else, something that Harry couldn't identify but that tasted better than anything else ever had. Harry licked his way further into Liam's mouth, wanting to taste more of him. Wanting to taste all of him.

He let out a whimper that would have been embarrassing if he wasn't so turned on as Liam pulled away. Harry blinked, feeling a bit dizzy as he realized that he'd been ready to shag Liam right in his front yard, in broad daylight.

Liam shot him a shy smile as he licked his lips. Harry's eyes followed the path of his tongue, imagining what it would feel like on his body, before Liam let out a giggle that brought Harry back to reality. He quickly shifted his books in front of him, trying to cover up his arousal and wondering if Liam could turn him on that much with just a kiss, what else could he do to him?

Harry knew that he shouldn't ask; that he should at least pretend to play hard to get, but he just couldn't help himself.

"Would you like to come in? Me mum's not home."

Liam took a deep breath before answering, looking into Harry's eyes as he spoke.

"I can't think of anything I'd rather do, Haz. But I better not. I really like you, and I don't think we should rush things. Is that okay?"

Harry wanted to shout that it wasn't okay, that he needed Liam. Needed him to love him and to take his mind off of everyone who didn't love him, but he knew that wasn't fair, so he just nodded.

"Will you meet me by your locker tomorrow morning?" Liam asked. Harry nodded again, smiling as Liam traced his finger along his jaw.

"Good. I hope you'll be meeting me there every morning," he said as he gave Harry a soft kiss on the lips; one that was far too brief in Harry's opinion.

Harry stood in the open doorway as Liam turned and started to walk away, praying that he would look at him again before he disappeared for the evening. His prayers were answered when he turned around to face Harry as he reached the edge of the yard, standing still with his hand over his heart like he was about to make a pledge.

"Oh and Harry? That was one hell of a first kiss," he shouted, his eyes crinkling as a big grin overtook his face. Harry had to will himself not to jump up and down right on his front stoop, and he rushed inside as quickly as he could, knowing that he couldn't hold back his glee for long. As soon as the door was closed behind him he did a little victory dance, shaking his hips and pumping his fists in the air as he replayed Liam's parting words over and over in his head.

He froze when he heard a knock at the door, worried for a second that someone had seen his ridiculous display. His heart then began to pound impossibly fast as he realized that Liam must have changed his mind; that he must have come back for more.

Harry would have skipped to the door if he hadn't already been standing next to it. His hands were shaking as he turned the knob and yanked it open, expecting to have Liam rush into his arms.

Instead he felt all of the air leave his lungs as he was pushed roughly up against the wall in his foyer. And instead of seeing Liam's kind face in front of him he found himself staring into the eyes of a very angry Zayn.

 

*******

 

"Zayn?"

"Expecting someone else?"

"What're you doing here?" Harry managed to ask once he was able to breathe again.

Zayn shook his head as if to clear it before releasing Harry and stepping back, pulling his snapback off and running a hand through his hair. "Nothing, fuck. I mean, I just came to hang out."

"You wanna hang out...with me?"

"I didn't have anything better to do at the moment, so yeah, why not? Plus I figured you shouldn't spend all your time with that loser Payne."

Harry knew he should say no. He did. He knew that it was wrong to hang out with Zayn when he was kinda, sorta dating Liam. Plus, he and Zayn didn't hang out. Like, ever. So yeah, it was definitely wrong. He just couldn't bring himself to care about what was right and what was wrong. Not when Zayn was here, right in front of him, and staring at him with those doe eyes. They had always captivated Harry. How did they manage to look so innocent, when the rest of Zayn's face was all hard edges and sharp planes?

So he found himself letting out a quiet, "Alright," as he walked as nonchalantly as he could into the living room, suddenly feeling like his limbs were too long for his body. Where Liam could make Harry totally forget his awkwardness at times, when he was around Zayn he never felt anything but awkward. Zayn was just so cool, and Harry was just so  _not_.

For some reason this only made Harry want to be around Zayn more, despite how uncomfortable it made him. There was no one he would rather be around. He knew that much, even if he didn't know why. And fuck, he wished he didn't feel this way. He wondered what twisted, dark part of him craved Zayn, so much so that he didn't care how Zayn treated him, as long as he was near.

Why couldn't his stomach clench and his heart race like this around Liam? I mean it did, it definitely did, but not like _this_. 

Harry pushed those thoughts aside when Zayn sat next to him on the sofa, so close that their legs were touching, because suddenly he was no longer capable of thinking of Liam. Of thinking of anything but the heat and nervous energy radiating off of Zayn.

An hour later and he was just past buzzed, well on his way to being drunk. Once again he'd been unable to say no to Zayn.  _Of course you can go in my mum's liquor cabinet. Of course I'll have another. Anything you want Zayn, emphasis on **anything**._   Luckily Harry had kept that last thought to himself, but he had no doubt that Zayn knew that Harry was putty in his hands. That Harry was his.

So he was thrilled to feel Zayn place his hand on his leg while they watched a movie, steadily working its way up his thigh, not even trying to be subtle about it. Emboldened by the alcohol, he placed his own hand on Zayn's leg, and he felt disappointment flood through him when Zayn brushed it away and stood up. But he was back seconds later, after turning off the light, and this time he wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him closer as he moved Harry's hand back to his leg.

Harry took a chance, moving his head to connect his lips with Zayn's. Zayn turned his head away before Harry could kiss him, but he angled his neck just so, letting Harry know that it was okay to kiss him there. And then Harry was kissing Zayn. Actually fucking kissing him. Sure, Zayn wasn't kissing him back, but Harry's lips were still on Zayn's skin, and that was enough for him. His head spun as he tasted Zayn for the first time, overwhelmed by the scent of cigarettes and cologne, and the taste of sweat and something spicy, something distinctly Zayn. Something that Harry wanted to taste forever.

He felt Zayn's hand on the back of his neck moving him away moments later, far sooner than Harry wanted to be pushed away, needing more. He let out a low groan of complaint, one that he cut off as soon as he realized that Zayn wasn't so much pushing him away as down; down where he wanted Harry and where Harry wanted to be.

So even though Zayn still hadn't kissed him, Harry wasn't really that surprised to find himself on his knees in front of Zayn, and he certainly wasn't about to complain, not when Zayn was unzipping his own jeans and pulling his dick out. Harry had never wanted anything in his mouth so badly before, and he wasn't going to let the fact that he had never done this before stop him from trying.

He felt Zayn's hands run through his hair, not so much forcing him closer as guiding him, not that Harry needed any encouragement to wrap his lips around Zayn's length. He sucked on his tip for a few seconds, enjoying the taste of Zayn, before sliding down further, not stopping until Zayn hitting the back of his throat made him choke. He pulled off to take a gasping breath, but was back on Zayn right away, reminding himself to take his time as he swallowed as much of him as he could, trying to relax his throat as his own cock throbbed in his jeans. 

The weight of Zayn on his tongue made him even harder, but it was the filthy words tumbling out of Zayn's mouth that were making him crazy. Zayn's voice never rose above a whisper, somehow managing to make his moans of  _fucking take it, I want you to gag on it_   seem almost sweet. His mutterings were all jumbling up to form one fact in Harry's lust-filled brain - that he was the one making Zayn feel this good, that for these few minutes he held the power - when Zayn's voice took on a rougher tone. A tone that Harry couldn't have ignored even if he'd wanted to.  _  
_

"Take your cock out. Wanna see you come," he demanded. Harry's hands immediately flew to his jeans, fumbling as he tried to unbutton them. He felt a wave of relief rush through him as he took himself in hand, already embarrassingly close to coming.

Zayn's hand found his own dick, still slick with Harry's spit, and he started to pump himself slowly as he kept his eyes on Harry. Harry's hand began to move faster under Zayn's steady gaze, and he felt a warmth spreading through him when he realized that Zayn had sped up to match Harry's pace.

A familiar heat began to coil in his belly as he neared the edge, but it was different this time. Better, because he wasn't just picturing Zayn in his head. He was actually there, right in front of Harry, jerking off because Harry had made him hard. Zayn was all that Harry could see, his tattoos dancing as his muscles flexed while he worked himself over. He was all that he could taste, the tang of his precome still fresh on Harry's tongue. His moans were all that Harry could hear, and they were getting increasingly louder as Zayn scooted closer.

Harry opened his mouth, driven purely by instinct and the need to please Zayn, and he tightened his grip and stroked himself faster as Zayn started to come. His dick was only centimeters away from Harry's mouth, and he felt each spurt hit him, licking his lips and swallowing it all down greedily. Harry started to come just as Zayn finished, coating his fingers as his eyes rolled back in his head.

Once Harry was able to focus again, he saw Zayn standing, his pants already zipped as he started to back away.

Harry climbed to his feet unsteadily to follow after him. "You're leaving?"

"Yeah, I didn't realize it was this late...," he started, and Harry could feel his face fall more and more the closer Zayn got to the door. Harry closed his eyes, not wanting to watch Zayn walk out on him, but he opened them when he felt a hand on his cheek. It was gone almost immediately, but Harry swore he could feel his skin tingling where Zayn had touched him. "I'll see you around, yeah?"

Harry didn't get a chance to answer before Zayn was out the door. Harry slumped against it, not sure of what to feel. He felt incredibly alone now that Zayn was gone, but he couldn't help but feel closer to Zayn than he had in years. Sure, it hadn't exactly been romantic, and he still didn't know what Zayn's lips against his own would feel like, but Zayn had been almost gentle with him. It was good enough for Harry, for now.

 

** *** **

 

Harry didn't dream at all that night, sleeping soundly for the first time in ages. But Zayn was still the first person he thought of upon waking, and he felt his cheeks heat as he remembered how good he'd looked sitting across from Harry, how good he'd tasted, how  _good_   the whole night had been. The heat turned into a glow as he thought of how for once Zayn had looked at Harry without any contempt in his eyes, like Harry was actually his friend or maybe even something more. Harry stretched his body, enjoying the way his muscles cracked as he replayed the night before in his mind, but before he could get too into it Liam's sweet, smiling face appeared behind his eyes. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him, tightening his stomach as he realized that he was in a situation that he never expected to be in. 

Could it be possible that two (incredibly fit, unbelievably hot) guys were both interested in him? He felt like something monumental had shifted between him and Zayn, but he couldn't be sure that Zayn felt the same way. He could never be sure what Zayn was thinking, or why he did the things he did. It had always been that way, ever since they were little boys, but now that sex was involved it just made everything a million times more confusing for Harry. But he'd seen the way that Zayn had looked at him, and he'd felt the way that he'd touched him, and that had to mean something. It had to. Harry didn't think he could take it if it didn't.

He was a bit nervous as he walked down the hallway towards his locker, but he was more excited. Excited about what could happen today. About who could be walking him home this afternoon. After years of walking home alone, of always sitting by himself during lunch, of never being anyone's first choice, there was now the very real possibility that both Zayn and Liam wanted to spend time with him. Harry knew that he shouldn't like the idea of two guys competing for his attention, but that didn't change the fact that he did. He wanted them both to want him. He wanted to be the one choosing for once.

He spotted Zayn's slim figure, clad all in black, coming down the hall, his arms not weighed down by any books as they swung freely. He was flanked as usual by Niall and Louis, and his dark hair was loose and curling at the edges, a cigarette peeking out from where it was tucked behind his ear. He looked so out of place in the dingy halls, his exotic good looks more suited to the pages of a magazine. Harry stood up a little straighter, a shy smile spreading across his face. His eyes met Zayn's as they passed, but he didn't see what he was hoping to in them. Harry wasn't stupid, so it's not like he thought Zayn was going to run up and jump into his arms, but he'd been expecting something. Something other that the blank look that he received, one that was far too brief, Zayn's eyes sliding away from Harry's almost immediately, as if he'd barely registered the fact that Harry was even there. As if Harry meant nothing to him.

Once again, Harry felt a heavy weight settle on his chest. He cursed himself for having had hope, for believing that Zayn actually gave a shit about him. He willed the tears not to come, knowing that he'd already shed enough of them over Zayn, far more than he deserved. The weight on his chest lifted a bit as he rounded the corner and saw Liam waiting for him at his locker, just as he'd promised. Liam was smiling brightly, his eyes crinkling up into slits under the force of his grin, and Harry couldn't believe that someone was   _this_   happy to see him. He hadn't known Liam very long, but he'd already shown Harry more kindness in that short time than Zayn had in years. So Harry plastered a smile on his face, one big enough to match Liam's, as he vowed to give him a real chance. 

"Hey, Li," he said quietly as he reached the other boy, suddenly feeling shy as he remembered their kiss from the day before. He couldn't take his eyes off of Liam's lips, so plump and pink and perfect, and he felt his own mouth tingle at the memory. 

"Hey, Hazza. You look...you look amazing," he said, his eyes trailing appreciatively up and down Harry's body. Harry blushed and waved his hand, too unfamiliar with receiving compliments to know how to respond.

"Um, you too. You always look...just, like, hot...," he stammered, before turning his back to Liam and wishing that the ground would swallow him whole. But Liam just laughed, coming up behind Harry, not too close, but near enough that Harry could feel Liam's warm breath on his neck when he next spoke.

"Are you doing anything after school today?" Harry shook his head, turning around to face Liam once again. Liam looked almost nervous, digging his teeth into his lip as his eyes met Harry's. "Do you think...would you like to go out with me? Like, on a proper date?"

Harry didn't have to make an effort to smile this time, and he knew without looking in a mirror that his face was probably being dominated by his dimples. He hoped that Liam found that look cute, because there was no way he could stop smiling right now. See, the truth was that Harry had never been on any kind of date, proper or otherwise. And he knew without asking that Liam's idea of a date wouldn't involve them hiding out at Harry's house, afraid to let anyone see them. No, Liam actually wanted to take Harry out, and he wouldn't mind being seen with Harry in public. And knowing that made Harry realize that that was what he wanted, and maybe, just maybe, even what he deserved.

"I'd love to," he told Liam sincerely, pushing away the nagging thought that he'd always hoped that Zayn would be the one taking him on his first date. 

"Really?" Liam asked, like he was genuinely surprised that Harry wanted to go out with him. Like he didn't realize that he was completely out of Harry's league. Harry just laughed and couldn't stop himself from pulling Liam into a hug, right there in the hallway, just because he could. 

"Yes, really. I can't think of anything I'd rather do," he said, and as he felt Liam's strong arms wrap around his waist, his laughter coming out in puffs against Harry's neck, it barely felt like a lie.

 

** *** **

 

Liam was mysteriously absent at lunch, which gave Harry way too much time to think as he sat alone at a table in the corner of the cafeteria. Way too much time to worry that Liam had changed his mind about their date. He became more and more convinced of this as the minutes ticked by, and for the second time that day he found himself on the verge of tears. He knew that he'd been foolish to think that either Zayn or Liam could possibly be interested in him, and this was obviously his punishment for having been so stupid.

He pushed his tray away from him, the pizza that he'd been looking forward to no longer sounding appealing to him, and stood up from the table so suddenly that his chair toppled over. This drew the attention of several students, heads swiveling to see what embarrassing thing Harry had done this time, and he knew he had to get out of there. He walked as quickly as he could towards the toilets, not wanting them to see him cry. Not wanting to give them another reason to laugh at him. 

The loo was thankfully empty when he entered, and he splashed some water on his face, willing himself not to overreact. He'd been stood up before, and he'd be stood up again. He'd survived much worse than this. The cold water helped bring some color back to his cheeks, and he ran his wet fingers through his hair to fluff his curls. He might be a loser who'd never get a boyfriend, but that didn't mean that he couldn't look good while he lived out the rest of his days alone.

Harry checked his watch. He only had a few minutes until his next lesson started, and of course it was the class he had with Liam. He made a promise to himself as he stared at his reflection.  _If Liam wasn't there, or if he ignored Harry, then that'd it; they obviously just weren't meant to be. The earth would keep spinning, and Harry would keep living, even if suddenly the idea of a world without the possibility of ever kissing Liam Payne again - of never seeing Liam smile and knowing that he was the reason for that smile - made Harry want to curl up in a ball and cry._

His hand reached for the door just as the warning bell rang, but before he could pull it towards him it was pushed open from the other side. And of course it had to be Zayn walking in. Of fucking course it had to be. Harry looked down at the floor as Zayn moved past him, not wanting to be kicked while he was down. He'd almost made it through the open door when he felt a hand brush against his own, fingertips squeezing fingertips, so gently that Harry couldn't be sure that he hadn't imagined it. But at the last second, just before the door closed between them, Harry looked up to see Zayn looking back at him from under his eyelashes, concern clear in his features. And then he was gone, and Harry was left standing at the restroom door, his hand and his heart both wishing for more.

His stomach lurched as he turned to head to class. Why? Why did he always let Zayn twist him up like this? It had been this way forever, ever since Harry had started loving Zayn. Loving him, which Harry undeniably did, meant giving Zayn power over him. Power over his feelings, power over his actions. It had been a roller coaster ride ever since Harry'd first looked into Zayn's hazel eyes, all those years ago on the playground, but now Harry just wanted off. No matter how good the highs were, and how much Harry craved more of them, he couldn't handle the ups and downs anymore. Couldn't stand never knowing where he stood with Zayn.

Liam was already in class when Harry arrived, and he paused mid-step, not sure of whether to take his regular place by Liam's side. Because it was, unofficially at least, Harry's seat, and in the few short weeks that they'd known each other there'd never been any question of whether they would sit next to each other. But then he noticed Liam's books sitting on Harry's desk, saving his spot for him, and this realization was quickly followed by Liam raising his head to see Harry standing in the doorway, his lips quirking up into a smile as he waved to Harry excitedly. He was practically bouncing in his seat as Harry made his way over, and the words  _puppy dog_  flashed through Harry's mind. He couldn't help it. Liam was just so endearing and adorable. Harry knew that it was weird to apply the word adorable to a big, strapping man like Liam, but it just fit. And it was one of the things that Harry liked most about Liam.

"I'm sorry I wasn't at lunch," he leaned over to whisper as Harry sat down, sliding his books out of the way so that Harry could set his on the desk.

"S'alright," Harry said with a shrug, not wanting to admit that he'd almost had a breakdown over his absence.

"I wanted to be there, but I wanted to set up your surprise more," Liam said, his eyes twinkling as he looked over at Harry.

Harry took a minute to gape like an idiot as Liam's words washed over him. "You...you set up a surprise? For me?" he asked, unable to believe what he was hearing without further confirmation. 

"Yep."

"Well...what is it?" Harry demanded, finally allowing himself to feel some excitement. Not only did Liam still want to take him on a date, but he'd taken the time to plan something just for him.

"My lips are sealed," he told Harry, reinforcing his words by pantomiming zipping his lips and throwing the key over his shoulder. Harry let out a little giggle before schooling his mouth into a pout and batting his eyelashes. He had no idea how to flirt, and he was sure that he looked like an fool, but Liam seemed to think differently, if the way he was looking at Harry was anything to go by. "It's not fair for you to use your good looks against me. You are an evil temptress, Harry Styles, and I need to look away before I tell you all my secrets and ruin the surprise," he teased as he covered his face with his hands, turning his body away from Harry.

Harry knew that he was blushing, and grinning like a loon, but he didn't care. How could he when Liam was flirting with him, right in the middle of class, where anyone could see them? He liked Liam more and more the longer he knew him, and he found himself wanting to know all there was to know about Liam. Wanting to discover all his secrets, and to tell Liam all of his.

 

*******

 

The rest of the day dragged by, time passing so slowly (as it always seemed to when there was something to look forward to) that it made Harry ache. He couldn't wait to be on his date with Liam, and to see his surprise. He didn't even care what it was. Just knowing that Liam had planned something just for him was enough.

By the time the dismissal bell rang, none too soon since Harry was sure his teacher was going to kill him if he kept fidgeting and looking at the clock, Harry was ready to jump out of his skin. Anxiety and excitement were waging a war in his head, but all it took was one look from Liam, waiting patiently for Harry at his locker, and excitement won out. Harry knew that the probability that he would make a fool of himself at some point during the evening was strong, but he was also starting to realize that Liam was the best possible person to embarrass yourself in front of. Liam Payne wasn't the type to kick you when you were down, or to poke at your insecurities until they were all you could think about.

Harry pushed those thoughts aside, not wanting to taint the date with thoughts of _him_ , or what was happening between them, or what could be. Those thoughts could wait, or better yet, maybe this date (and Liam) would prove to be just what he needed to get Zayn out if his mind once and for all. Harry wasn't hopeful on this front, but he was willing to try anything.

And it's not like it was torture to spend time with Liam. He looked right fit in a white vest top and gray jeans, his combat boots and ever present handkerchief making him look a bit tough. And he was sweet and smart and giggled even more than Harry did and fuck, Harry didn't know what he'd done to deserve to have a guy this great pay attention to him.

"Ready for your surprise?" Liam asked, as if the answer wasn't obvious. Harry couldn't do more than nod eagerly, too overwhelmed by the idea of the surprise to deal with the reality of it. In his experience surprises had always been bad. Fists flying at him from nowhere, or rumors that blindsided him. He'd never even had a surprise party growing up. The only thing that would have truly surprised him as a kid was if anyone other than Zayn and his family had shown up to celebrate his birthdays. He wasn't the kind of person who received good surprises, who people took the time to plan special treats for, and he'd never expected that to change. But he hadn't expected Liam to worm his way into his life and heart (maybe? almost anyways) the way he had. Maybe everything could be different now. Maybe Harry could be different now.

Harry put all of his books into his locker, knowing that however this date turned out, good or bad, he wouldn't be able to focus on homework tonight. Liam slung an arm around his shoulder and started to lead him outside. They weren't heading in the direction that Harry had been expecting, towards the front entrance, but instead towards the back of the school.

Liam and Harry were almost the same height, and probably close to the same size, but Liam's muscles were so defined, so firm, that Harry found himself feeling incredibly safe with Liam's arm wrapped around him securely. So he was a little upset when Liam let go of him as soon as they were outside, wondering if he'd been wrong. If Liam was in fact afraid to have people see them together. But then Liam was holding up his white handkerchief, his eyes asking for permission to tie it around Harry's eyes, and Harry knew that he hadn't been wrong about Liam.

This was confirmed once his eyes were covered, when Liam took his hand. Their fingers were interlocked, and it sent a thrill through Harry. He'd never held hands with a guy before, or anyone other than his mum, really, and he found that he liked it. Liked the way their fingers fit together perfectly. Liked how warm Liam's palm felt against his own.

They only walked for a few minutes, and Harry wasn't sure where Liam could possibly be leading him, since he tended to flee from the school grounds as soon as the last bell rang. Harry and school spirit were words that didn't belong in the same sentence together, and he had barely spent anytime on this part of the property. Liam held his hand the entire time, and he always warned Harry when there was a bump or a hill ahead. Harry found himself forgetting about the surprise that awaited him, content to wander forever as long as he had Liam's hand in his own and Liam's melodic voice in his ear.

But they soon reached there destination, and Liam pulled off the blindfold with a flourish. Harry blinked in the sunlight, and the first thing he saw was Liam's face. He looked incredibly nervous, and Harry lifted a hand to his cheek to soothe him. 

"Thank you," he told him sincerely. "I love it."

Liam laughed. "You haven't even seen it yet, silly."

"I know, but I already know I'll love it."

Liam laughed again, louder this time, and he put his hands on Harry's shoulders, maneuvering them so that he was behind Harry and Harry was looking out over their school's football pitch. He was facing one of the goal posts, only it had white lights strung up around it and a red plaid blanket spread out before it. There was even a brown wicker picnic basket, and Harry felt excitement and an overwhelming gratitude bubble up inside of him as he realized that Liam had been setting this up for them during lunch.

"They just let you do all this?" Harry asked in wonder, turning around to face his date.

Liam shrugged. "I'm the captain," he said, like that explained everything. Harry knew that it would sound cocky coming from anyone else, but when Liam said it it just sounded like the truth. "Come on, let's eat."

"You must be starving," Harry said as he settled down on the blanket. "Since you skipped lunch and all."

Liam winked at him as he walked over to a boom box and pressed play. "It was worth it."

For a moment the only noise was the soft sounds of Boyz II Men floating up from the cassette player, and Harry once again felt an overwhelming desire to find out more about Liam Payne. To find out everything, as if it would unlock the mystery of why he felt that Harry was worth his attention.

"Have you always been into football?" he asked as Liam passed him a sandwich, figuring that they should start with the basics.

"Oh yeah," Liam responded, his eyes lighting up. "I used to wear my footie jersey everywhere. Me mum had to bribe me to take it off so she could do the washing."

"What would she bribe you with?" Harry pressed, enjoying the idea of little Liam running around in a dirty jersey while his mum chased him.

"Sweets, mostly. Or she'd threaten to take away me action figures, and I couldn't have that," Liam answered, completely serious and utterly adorable. 

"My mum used to have to bribe me to keep my clothes on. I loved being naked. Still do."

Liam groaned and Harry noticed that his cheeks were looking a bit flushed, pinking up deliciously against Liam's tan skin. "Guess I know what I'll be dreaming about tonight."

"Shut up," Harry mumbled, suddenly very interested in his peanut butter and jelly. There was just no way that Liam would ever dream of Harry. Not a chance.

"You really don't realize how attractive you are, do you?" Liam asked, so much sincerity lacing his words that Harry had to look up at him. That same sincerity was written all over Liam's face, and Harry wanted to deflect the question with a joke, but he couldn't bring himself to.

"Me? I'm nothing. Nothing like you. You're hot and popular and proud, and I just don't know how you do it."

"I'm nowhere near as brave as you. I didn't even tell people I was gay when I first moved here. I didn't hide it, but it wasn't something that I went around publicizing. And by the time people found out they already kind of knew me and it just wasn't such a big deal. I'm not nearly as strong as you, Harry. I really admire how you're not afraid to be yourself."

"No," Harry insisted, shaking his head. "I wish that was true, but it isn't. I'm afraid of everything. I guess I just don't know how to be anyone but me. What you see is what you get with me, for better or for worse."

"Well I, for one, am glad about that. I like you just fine, and I wouldn't want you to change a thing."

Harry smiled at Liam's words. Maybe Liam wasn't as brave and strong as Harry had assumed, but he was here, and he was sweet and honest and in that moment all Harry wanted to do was kiss him. So he did. He put down his sandwich and pushed aside Liam's juice box and he kissed him. Right on the mouth, with no worries that Liam would turn his head or push him away. And he didn't. No, Liam kissed him right back, and it was even better than Harry'd hoped it would be.

Only their lips were touching, and Harry longed to pull Liam closer, but for now the feeling of Liam's mouth pressed against his own was enough. Liam apparently had other ideas, because before he knew what was happening Harry felt his back hit the ground, and Liam was hovering above him, peppering his jaw and neck with kisses. Liam was holding up most of his own weight, not wanting to smush Harry, but Harry wouldn't have minded it. He would have willingly been flattened into a pancake if it meant that Liam kept kissing him.

But all too soon Liam was pulling away, distancing himself and looking over at Harry with a sheepish grin. "Sorry. Sometimes I just can't resist kissing you. I swear I haven't thought of anything else all day."

"Really?" Harry asked, Liam's words making his heart beat just as quickly as his kisses did.

"Course," Liam answered as he stood up, as if there was no doubt in his mind that Harry was irresistible. "Ready for the next part of our date?" he asked, holding out a hand to help Harry up.

"There's more?" Harry knew that he was proving that there was in fact such a thing as a dumb question with every word that came out of his mouth, but his filter seemed to be missing around Liam, and it was kind of nice to not have to censor himself.

"I wanted to bring the ice cream to you, but it would've melted, so I'm gonna have to bring you to the ice cream instead. And I know that you said your favorite is Christmas pudding, and the shop in town won't carry it until December, but I'm hoping we can find something you like there."

"I'm sure we'll be able to," Harry said, knowing that as long as Liam was there that there'd be something he liked in the shop. He couldn't believe his luck. Not only was Liam taking him out in public, but he'd remembered what type of ice cream was Harry's favorite too.

They held hands during the entire walk to the center of town, and Harry never wanted to let go. The evening wasn't even over and it was already the best date he'd ever been on. Yes, it was also the only date he'd ever been on, but when he'd imagined himself out on a date, it'd never been this good. For once Harry's reality was even better than his fantasy.

The ice cream shop was fairly full when they entered, and Harry spotted several kids from their school, but Liam didn't let go of Harry's hand. If anything he squeezed it tighter, as if to let Harry know that they were in this together. Harry ended up ordering a scoop of strawberry, and Liam ordered a sugar cone with Superman ice cream, which Harry couldn't help but tease him about as they slid into a booth for two.

"You know that's just vanilla with food coloring, right?"

"Yeah, but it's prettier than vanilla, and I like pretty things," Liam responded, looking directly at Harry as he spoke. Harry blushed, hoping that he was one of the pretty things that Liam liked. "And besides, anything named after a super hero is good in my book."

"I might have to change my name to Batman then."

"Oh god, don't go there. I might jump across this table if I imagine you in a Batman costume." Harry didn't mind the thought of Liam tackling him  _at all_ , and he found himself wondering if he should actually dress up for Halloween this year.

His thoughts were interrupted when the bell chimed, signaling that a customer had entered the shop. Harry glanced up and spotted Niall, followed immediately by Louis and Zayn. Harry looked away as quickly as he could, not wanting to be spotted, which was of course impossible in the tiny shop. But at least this way he didn't have to see what Zayn's reaction would be when he spotted him with Liam, or worse yet, to see that Zayn didn't care at all who he was with.

So he kept his eyes focused completely on Liam, enjoying the occasional glimpse of his tongue as he licked his cone, wondering if Liam would taste even sweeter when they next kissed, like vanilla ice cream. Liam's lips were turning more and more blue as he finished eating, and Harry giggled at him, leaning over to wipe a smudge off of the corner of his mouth.

His giggle was cut off as he heard Louis' voice ring out from behind him. He mentally patted himself on the back for not having noticed that they'd sat in the booth next to them, but now that he knew he swore he could feel Zayn's gaze on him, the heat of it making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. But all that he heard was Louis, and his stomach dropped as he realized what he was saying.

"Who decided to let a bunch of faggots in here? Fucking disgrace, is what it is."

Harry watched as Liam's shoulders tensed, and he knew that he'd heard the cruel words as well. The kind smile that he was so used to seeing on Liam's face was gone, replaced with a look of anger that Harry would have found frightening if it'd been directed at him. He was surprised that Liam's soft features could even transform into something so scary. His jaw was clenched, his hands balled into fists, and Harry reached over to place his hand on Liam's arm, not sure of how to soothe him but wanting to wipe that look off of his face.

"Disgusting, innit?" Niall continued, and that was all it took to get Liam out of his seat.

"Just leave it," Harry pleaded, tightening his grip on Liam's arm. But he could still hear the hurtful taunts falling from Louis and Niall's mouths,  _faggot_  and  _queer_  punctuating every other word, and he knew that Liam could too.

Liam spoke quietly, but he sounded firm and not even a little bit afraid. "I can't just leave it, Harry. It's bad enough when they say those things about me, but I'm not going to let them talk about you that way."

Harry stood up to try to stop him, because as sweet as that was and as big as Liam's muscles were, it would still be three against one. Liam didn't pause on his way past, gently moving Harry out of his path, when Zayn's voice cut through his friend's cruel laughter.

"Will you idiots shut up already? Let's get the fuck outta here," he said, standing up and making his way towards Liam. Liam stood his ground, widening his stance, arms folded across his chest, almost as if he wanted to cause a confrontation with Zayn. Liam glared at him as their shoulders collided roughly, and Zayn glared right back. But as soon as he was past Liam, and almost to the door, he looked back at Harry, and his glare turned into a smirk. Harry's eyes widened as Zayn licked his lips, not taking his eyes off of Harry. Harry turned quickly to Liam, hoping that he hadn't seen the way that Zayn had looked at him. He obviously had, his eyebrows raised in confusion as he looked back and forth between the two boys.

Harry stayed silent as Zayn and his friends left. He didn't know how to explain that look either, or the fact that Zayn hadn't joined in on the taunting. He'd never known Zayn to bite his tongue before, in fact he was usually the one leading the charge against Harry, but today he'd put a stop to it.

Liam took a step closer to him, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'm sorry about that. I've got a bit of a temper."

"Don't be sorry. I just didn't want to see you hurt is all."

Please," Liam scoffed. "Those guys are all talk."

Harry knew for a fact that they weren't, or at least Zayn wasn't, but he didn't say anything. He didn't want to think about him anymore, not when he was out with Liam. 

"Let's get out of here, yeah?" Liam asked. Harry nodded, slipping his hand back into Liam's, and he felt a warmth spreading through his body, the touch comforting him. They walked home like that, hand in hand, chatting about anything and everything and sometimes nothing at all, but their silences weren't uncomfortable.

"Listen, Harry," Liam began as they reached Harry's house, turning towards Harry so that he could hold his other hand as well. "I was planning to ask you this over ice cream, before everything happened...but I was wondering if you'd maybe want to go out with me?"

"Like, be your boyfriend?" Harry asked, his heart beating so hard that he felt like it was going to come through his chest as he waited for Liam's answer.

"Well, yeah. Would that be okay?"

"Yeah," Harry breathed. "It'd be better than okay. I'd love to." The only thing that stopped Harry from continuing to ramble on was Liam kissing him. His mouth pressed against Harry's softly at first, but he soon deepened the kiss, his lips parting as Harry's did the same.

Harry could hear his blood pounding in his ears, and he could feel Liam squeezing his hands, his fingertips pressed to his palms, and he could taste a hint of the ice cream that Liam had eaten, but he still couldn't believe that this was really happening. That he, Harry Styles, actually had a real, live boyfriend. So he kept kissing Liam, not wanting to stop until this all felt real, and not like a dream that could end at any moment.

They were both breathless when they finally broke apart, foreheads resting together. Harry liked being this close to Liam, breathing the same air, their bodies pressed flush with one another.

"Thank you, Li. This was the best date ever."

Harry could tell that Liam was grinning, even though he didn't pull away far enough to see it. No, he quite liked where he was at the moment. Liam seemed to too, since he didn't move away to answer him.

"I thought so too. I'm really glad that you moved back here, Haz."

"I am too," Harry said, and he was. He'd experienced more excitement in the three weeks that he'd been back in Bradford than he had in the three years he'd been away combined.

"I'll call you when I get home, yeah?" Liam asked, placing a gentle kiss on Harry's cheek as he reluctantly stepped away.

"Yeah, that'd be good," Harry agreed. "Bye, boyfriend," he couldn't help but add as Liam reached the edge of his yard. Liam apparently liked the sound of that, because he was back at Harry's side in two long strides, and his mouth was on Harry's once again.

"Bye, boyfriend," Liam whispered against his lips before pulling away, backing up towards the sidewalk, his gaze never leaving Harry's.

Harry brought his fingers to his mouth as he watched Liam walk away. It wasn't the same as watching Zayn leave him, because he knew that Liam would be back. Once Liam was out of sight Harry headed into his house with a bounce in his step and a smile on his face. He kind of liked this boyfriend thing.

 

*******

 

Just as promised, Liam called Harry when he got home that night. Harry had left all of his books at school, and Liam didn't seem too concerned with whatever homework was waiting for him, so they ended up talking for hours. It was seamless, their conversation flowing just like it had on their date. And best of all, it ended with Liam murmuring a sweet, "Goodbye, boyfriend."

Harry was smiling as he hung up the phone, but it rang as soon as he set it in its cradle. 

"Miss me already?" he teased as he answered it.

The voice on the other end of the line wasn't the one that he'd been expecting. "Why has your line been busy all fucking night?"

"What do you want, Zayn?" Harry asked, the buzz he'd felt while talking to Liam already starting to slip away.

"What the fuck's going on with you and Payne? He's not like your boyfriend or anything, right?"

Harry paused for a moment before responding. He didn't owe Zayn any explanation, and suddenly the word  _boyfriend_  didn't sound as appealing as it had just a few moments before. "Not that it's any of your business, but yeah, we're dating," he answered quietly.

Zayn's pause was even longer than Harry's had been, and he sounded defeated when he finally spoke, his voice small and thin. "Why'd you come back here, Harry?"

"You know why," Harry said, closing his eyes as he leaned his head against the kitchen wall. "You know you do."

"I wish you'd stayed away. It was so much easier when you were gone."

Zayn's words felt like a punch in the gut. "Why though? What was easier?"

"Everything, fuck. You just make everything so goddamn hard."

" _I_  make everything hard? You're the one that can't admit that you like me!"

Harry heard Zayn's sharp intake of breath, followed by seconds of silence that seemed to stretch on and on. Harry found himself holding his own breath, wondering if he'd pushed Zayn too far.

He had.

"You think I fucking like you?" Zayn sneered at last. "You're even dumber than you look if you think you're anything other than a warm hole to me. You and Payne deserve each other. You make me fucking sick-"

Harry hung up.

The sick little voice inside his head wanted him to stay on the line; wanted Zayn to confirm all of his worst suspicions. Wanted him to hear just how much Zayn despised him. But the part of him that wanted to preserve what little dignity he had left had heard enough, and wished that he'd never picked up the phone at all.

***

The next morning he found a note in his locker, not laying at the bottom like it would have been if someone had shoved it through the slots, but folded into an origami crane and sitting neatly on the shelf. He knew who it was from before he opened it. Zayn could break into anything, and he'd been briefly obsessed with origami when they were about nine, sitting still for hours perfecting his skills while Harry whined in the background, wanting Zayn's attention back on him, where it belonged.

Harry told himself that he didn't care what the note said, but he opened it anyway. It was just two lines, written out in Zayn's neat script.

_I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of it. xx_

Harry knew that he should crumple it up and toss it in the trash, but instead he folded it back as best he could and tucked it into a corner of his locker, promising himself that he'd throw it away later.

 ***

"Do you know that guy?" Liam asked him during lunch.

"Which guy?"

"That guy with black hair and all those tattoos. Malik or whatever. You two friends or summat?"

"No," Harry answered automatically, shaking his head. "I mean, not really. Why?"

"He keeps staring at you. And I saw the way he looked at you last night. It's just weird is all," Liam said with a shrug before turning his attention back to his food, but Harry noticed that he was stabbing his macaroni a lot harder than he had been before.

Harry didn't say anything, because he didn't know what to say. Were he and Zayn friends? Not really, hadn't been for years. But even if Harry wasn't currently speaking to Zayn it wasn't like they were exactly enemies, either, so he thought it would be better to avoid the subject of what exactly he and Zayn meant to each other. But then Zayn walked by, and Harry remembered his words from the night before, and suddenly he didn't want to keep quiet anymore.

"No, we're not friends," he said, loud enough for Zayn to hear him as he passed, grabbing Liam's hand where it lay on the table to emphasize his words. He saw Zayn's steps falter out of the corner of his eye, and he turned to really look at him for the first time that day.

Zayn looked horrible. There was really no other word for it. His hair looked like it hadn't been brushed, and the dark circles under his eyes were evident from where Harry sat, as if Zayn hadn't slept at all. Harry felt a wave of guilt wash over him, wondering if he was the reason for Zayn's sleepless night. Zayn's eyes lingered on Harry's for a moment, and Harry was almost positive that he saw pain in them. But that was impossible, right? Zayn had told him just hours before how little Harry meant to him, and that he wished Harry wasn't even back in Bradford, and a stupid note and sad face weren't going to make up for that.

***

Zayn must have gotten the hint that Harry wasn't willing to forgive him, because he stayed away from Harry over the next few weeks. Part of Harry had been hoping that Zayn would try harder to apologize; that he'd declare his love and beg for forgiveness, but there'd been nothing. No more notes, no more drunken phone calls, no more late night knocks on his door.

So once again Harry did his best to move on from the hope that he and Zayn could be something more. More than friends, more than enemies, just  _more_. It was easier this time because he had Liam. Liam who was always there when he said he would be, and who was always happy to spend time with Harry. Liam who wasn't afraid to hold his hand in the hallways or to kiss him on the cheek in between classes. Liam who was giving him the worst case of blue balls in the history of the world.

Because good god did Liam know how to turn Harry on. His kisses were addictive, somehow soft and gentle and firm and rough all at the same time. Harry couldn't get enough of them, wanting to make up for all of the years that he hadn't had anyone to kiss. And Liam knew just how to touch Harry to drive him crazy, his calloused hands feeling like heaven on Harry's skin. He wasn't afraid to press against Harry while they made out on the sofa, to put all of his weight on him, showing Harry that he was just as turned on as Harry was. No, it was the follow-through that Liam wasn't so good at.

Harry was pretty sure that Liam thought that he was a virgin, and he didn't know how to tell him that he wasn't, because he really didn't know how to explain about his past with Zayn. And while he thought that it was really sweet that Liam didn't want to rush Harry, or to pressure him into doing anything that he didn't want to, the fact was that Harry wanted to do it all with Liam. He wanted to get Liam off and to have Liam get him off. He just needed to figure out how to get that point across to Liam, and soon.

They were sat on Harry's sofa, just as they were almost every day after school, since Harry's mum was always working, and they'd given up on any pretense of watching the movie playing after only a few minutes. It had started with Liam putting his hand on Harry's leg, which led to Harry resting his head on his shoulder, and once Liam had started carding his fingers through Harry's curls Harry was practically purring. He turned his head a bit, and Liam didn't hesitate, his lips meeting Harry's as his hand slid up higher on his leg.

They kissed for several minutes, breathing faster and faster as Liam's hand inched higher and higher, closer to where Harry was straining against his jeans, until they were just panting against each other's mouths, unable to kiss anymore. And then Liam was finally touching Harry, fingers skimming over his length through his jeans, and Harry pushed his hand under Liam's shirt, his thumb gliding over Liam's nipple as they both moaned.

The next thing Harry knew he was on his back with Liam on top of him. He could feel how hard Liam was against his hip, and he spread his legs to bring him closer. Harry's hands slid around to Liam's back, enjoying the way his muscles flexed as he struggled to hold himself up above Harry while they kissed. Harry lifted his hips, just once, to see how Liam would react, and was rewarded when Liam let out a low groan that went straight to Harry's dick.

It was game fucking on after that.

Liam collapsed on top of Harry, sliding his knee in between Harry's legs and angling his hips just so. Harry got even harder as they rutted against each other, their bodies creating a friction that was equal parts heaven and hell. It felt so fucking good, but Harry still wanted more.

Liam's breath was coming out in puffs against Harry's neck, and Harry clutched at his back as he felt a familiar pressure start to build at the base of his spine.

"We should...we should stop," Liam groaned, but his body betrayed his words, his hips moving even faster against Harry's.

"No," Harry whined, not able to say more when all he could think about was how good Liam's cock felt rubbing against his own.

"I'm...I'm gonna come in my pants if we don't," Liam moaned, his breath hot against Harry's ear.

Harry almost came right then, Liam's words sending a thrill through him. "So take 'em off then," he ordered, his voice gruff. He'd never thought of himself as demanding, but drastic times called for drastic measures.

Liam finally pulled away, raising his head to look down at Harry. "Yeah? I mean, you're sure? I don't want you to do anything you don't want-"

"Yes, I'm sure," Harry interrupted. "I'm totally, completely, one hundred percent positive. Fuck, Liam, I just want you so bad."

A huge grin spread across Liam's face. "I want you too. I've never been this fucking hard in my life," he said as he sat back on his heels and quickly began unbuttoning his jeans. Liam hardly ever cussed, and the filthy word sounded so sexy falling from his lips that Harry had to squeeze himself through his jeans, willing himself not to come yet, not when he was so close to getting what he wanted.

As Harry began to unbuckle his own belt he saw a brief flash of how Zayn had looked sitting on this very sofa, dick in hand, so he brought his mouth back to Liam's as soon as he'd pushed his jeans down a bit, pulling him back on top of him and kissing him until the memory of Zayn was pushed to the back of his mind.

They both had their pants around their knees, but Harry didn't care. Liam felt too good rubbing against him through his boxers, and he couldn't wait until they were all the way undressed to continue. Liam's dick had felt incredible moving against his through their jeans, but it was a million times better with only a couple of thin layers of cotton separating them.

Harry was already dangerously close to coming, and then Liam kissed his way along Harry's jaw, dirty words tumbling out of his mouth as he moved against Harry more quickly, and Harry just closed his eyes and held on for the ride.

"Fuck, Harry, I've wanted this since the first moment I saw you. Wanted to make you come, to hear you moan my name. I think about it every night. How you're gonna look with your mouth wrapped around me, how you're gonna taste-"

And Harry was gone, his nails digging into Liam's back as his stomach clenched and his muscles tensed and he came, whispering Liam's name again and again. Liam followed suit, biting at Harry's neck as his hips stuttered and he came between them.

Liam pulled away from Harry a moment later, laughing as he looked down at the mess that they'd made. Harry felt giddy, loose-limbed and completely at ease as he let out a giggle. A giggle that turned to laughter as he noticed for the first time that Liam was wearing Batman boxers.

"I've got some Superman ones you can borrow," he teased.

Liam rolled his eyes. "Superman's rubbish, but I guess I'll make an exception this once," he said, squeezing Harry's thigh as he leaned in to give him a kiss.

They cleaned up in the loo together before Harry gave him the clean boxers and headed out to wait in the living room while Liam changed. He bit his thumb as he waited, hoping that things wouldn't be weird between them now. Liam joined him on the sofa a few minutes later, sitting down next to Harry and reaching over to interlock their fingers.

"Mind if we finish the movie?"

Harry let out a little surprised sound, one that he tried to cover up with a cough. He'd been expecting that Liam would leave now that he'd gotten to come, and he was thrilled that Liam still wanted to spend time with him. He didn't answer Liam, instead giving him a kiss on the cheek and snuggling up against him, letting Liam know that he was welcome to stay for as long as he wanted to.

 

*******

 

If Harry was being honest with himself, he would have admitted that he'd been hoping that taking things to the next level with Liam would help him to forget about Zayn. As if coming with Liam could erase all the times he'd come with Zayn, or to thoughts of Zayn.

It hadn't worked. He still saw Zayn's face just as often as he saw Liam's when he closed his eyes, if not more. He felt like he was growing closer to Liam every day, his feelings getting stronger and stronger, but his feelings for Zayn weren't lessening. He was still just as in love with him as he had been for the last decade.

Making matters worse was that football practices had started, so Liam no longer had his afternoons free to spend with Harry. Liam did his best to make up for the lost time during school hours, showering Harry with affection whenever he could, cuddling with him in the cafeteria and carrying his books to every class, but Harry was still left alone every afternoon. They stretched on endlessly, Harry feeling far lonelier than he had before, the hole that Liam left growing more and more obvious all the time.

It was during one of these boring afternoons that the knock at the door came. Harry almost ignored it. Liam was at practice and he didn't really have any other friends to visit him, so he figured that it was someone for his mum. But the knocking soon turned into pounding, so he finally dragged himself off of the sofa and moped over to see who it was.

He opened the door to find Zayn standing on his stoop, a sheepish expression on his face. 

Harry didn't move aside to let him in, and for once Zayn didn't force it, instead asking, "Is it alright that I'm here?" as he tucked his hands into his pockets.

He looked incredibly nervous, more so than Harry had ever seen him, and Harry didn't know what to make of that. He shrugged as he stepped back, allowing Zayn to pass by. He could smell Zayn's cologne as Zayn moved past him, and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed that scent until that moment. He took a deep breath, both to get more of it and to steady his nerves. He felt like he always did around Zayn, unbearably tense and completely on edge but also more alive than he did at any other time. It was a heady combination, and Harry knew that he'd be craving more of it the second Zayn left him again.

"How have you been?" Zayn asked, standing awkwardly in the foyer, like he was sure that Harry was going to ask him to leave any minute.

"I'm good...," Harry said slowly, not sure where Zayn was going with this.

"You look good. I mean, you look happy," he clarified. "Are you happy, Harry?"

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to say anything more.

"That's good," Zayn said, nodding as if trying to convince himself. "Is it okay if I sit down? I feel like an idiot just standing here."

"Um yeah, that's fine," Harry murmured, motioning towards the living room.

Zayn either didn't see Harry or he chose to ignore him, because he turned and headed towards Harry's bedroom, not stopping until he was sitting on the bed.

Harry followed him but stopped in the doorway. He knew from experience that they were entering dangerous territory but, like always, he couldn't bring himself to say no to Zayn.

"What do you want, Zayn?" Harry asked. He wasn't sure what answer to expect, or even what he wanted Zayn to say, but he definitely wasn't expecting the response he got from him.

"I just wanted to see you, okay?" he said quietly, running a hand through his hair and looking anywhere but at Harry. "I guess in the back of my mind I always hoped that you couldn't be happy without me, and while you were away it was easy to pretend that you were missing me as much as I was missing you, but now I see you smiling with Payne, and kissing him, and it's fucking killing me. I hate it."

Harry was quiet for several moments, his brain unable to process this new information. But one question was repeating itself in his head, compelling him to finally speak. "You missed me while I was gone?"

"Don't make me say it again," Zayn groaned, dropping his head to his hands. "You'd just always been there, my whole fucking life, even if it was just in the background, and I guess I liked knowing that you'd always be there, waiting for me. I was pretty much your only friend, so I never had to get used to seeing you with other guys. I always felt like you were all mine, and I liked that. And then you went away, out of nowhere, and I had no way to reach you, and I had no idea how you felt after everything that happened that night. That fucking sucked. I was just starting to get over you when you showed up again and screwed everything up."

Zayn's voice never rose above a whisper, but Harry knew in his soul that this was the most truthful that Zayn had ever been with him. It was almost everything that he'd always wanted to hear, and he had no idea how to respond.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You think I want to feel this way?" Zayn asked, standing up and taking a step towards Harry. "I fucking hate it!"

"If you hate it so much then why are you here?"

"I hate...needing you like this, but it's nothing compared to how much I hate seeing you with  _him_."

"I don't know what you want from me. Liam's a good guy."

"He's not the saint you think he is. He's an asshole, a meathead jock. The type of dickhead that we used to make fun of. He hooked up with...like, a lot of people last year. He got in fights all the time when he first moved here, and I doubt he's ever read a book in his life. What the fuck do you see in him anyway?"

"Liam may not be perfect, but at least he's willing to kiss me." 

"Is that what you want? You want me to fucking kiss you?" he demanded, walking towards Harry, not stopping until Harry's back was against the wall and their bodies were pressed together. "'Cause I'll kiss the hell outta you."

In the back of his mind Harry knew there was a reason that he should say no, a reason that he should push Zayn away, but he couldn't think clearly, not with Zayn's hands sliding up and down his sides, his head tilting just a little as it moved closer to Harry's. But Liam's face flashed before him at the last second and he tried to back away even though there was nowhere to go, his head hitting the wall with a loud thump that did little to bring him back to his senses. 

"We can't. I'm with Liam," he managed to get out. 

"And if he was here, and you were sat between us, who would you want to kiss? Whose hands would you want on you?" Zayn asked, pushing Harry's shirt up so that he could touch his skin.

Harry groaned at the thought of both Liam and Zayn there, hard and wanting him, wanting to please him, and he closed his eyes to picture it better as he pushed his hips against Zayn's. Zayn pushed right back, blanketing Harry's body with his own. Harry knew that Zayn could feel how turned on he was, but even though his body was betraying him he didn't want his words to.

"We shouldn't," he feebly protested, his words so quiet he couldn't be sure that Zayn had heard them.

"Just give me one taste, Harry. Please. I've been thinking about this forever," he murmured, licking his lips. 

There was no way that Harry could deny him that, even if he'd wanted to. "Kiss me then," he whispered, having never wanted something so much in his life.

So Zayn kissed him. It was nothing like he'd expected. He'd thought it would be rough, all teeth and tongue, but it was gentle, just a sweet press of Zayn's mouth against his own. Zayn's lips were a little chapped, and he tasted of cigarettes, but that only made it better, reminding Harry that these were the lips that he'd wanted to kiss for forever; that he was kissing Zayn and no one else. And then Zayn opened his mouth and his tongue met Harry's and the kiss went from perfect to something more, something so good that a word hadn't been invented for it yet. He'd suspected that kissing Zayn would be amazing, but this was beyond anything he could have imagined. It was even better than he'd dreamed of, and he'd dreamed of it for years. Their past was forgotten, Liam was forgotten, everything was forgotten. Everything but the heat of Zayn's body against his, and the slow tangle of their tongues. It sent a shock through Harry's entire body, right down to his bones, that's how good kissing Zayn made him feel. 

And if he thought Zayn had turned him on before, just with his words and his touches, then he was not prepared for how this would make him feel. This was something else...this was everything. Everything that Harry could have asked for. Finally, after all these years, after all the dreams and the nightmares, Zayn was kissing him, and telling him that he needed him, and Harry was just praying that it was all real.

Their breathing became louder as their bodies began to move against each other more insistently. Harry let out a whimper when Zayn pulled away, one that was replaced with a moan as Zayn began to kiss down his neck to his collarbone, his lips searching for any bare skin they could find.

"I wanna kiss you everywhere. I wanna touch you in places he's never been. Does he kiss you like this, Harry? Does he turn you on this much?" he demanded, reaching down to cup Harry, putting the perfect amount of pressure on him through his jeans.

Harry's only response was a moan, and a sharp intake of breath, but Zayn wanted answers.

"Tell me, Harry," he ordered, grabbing Harry's hand and bringing it down to his own dick, which was so hard that it made Harry want to drop to his knees, to bend over, to do anything to feel more of it. "Does Liam get this hard for you?"

The sound of Liam's name made the heat in his veins feel like it'd been replaced with ice water. Harry took a gasping breath, feebly pushing Zayn away from him as he tried to get his bearings. As he tried to do the right thing.

"We need to- we need to stop. I need to think. I'm sorry," he said in between pants.

Zayn looked like he'd run a marathon. A light sheen of sweat covered his skin, and his hair was sticking up from when Harry had run his hands through it, and he was breathing just as hard as Harry was. But he was smiling, and looking hot as fuck, which was making it extremely difficult for Harry to remember why he shouldn't be kissing him, or letting him fuck him until he couldn't even remember his own name, let alone Liam's.

If Harry'd had enough blood flowing to his brain to be able to think at all, this was the moment when he would have thought that Zayn would get angry, or even violent. But Zayn surprised him again, running a finger along Harry's jaw, tilting his chin up so that Harry had to look him in the eye.

"It's okay. I can wait," he said simply. "Do you want me to leave, or..."

Harry glanced over his nightstand, and grimaced when he saw the time. "Um, it's kinda late, and Liam's supposed to come over so..."

Harry saw something flash in Zayn's eyes - anger? jealousy? - but it was gone in an instant. "Okay," he sighed. "Bye, Harry."

With that he was brushing past Harry, walking down the hall and out the door, and Harry was left feeling more confused than ever.

 

*******

 

Harry had no idea what to expect at school the next day. Liam hadn't ended up having time to come over, and Harry hated himself for how relieved that had made him. He knew that he should use the free time to figure out what to do; to decide what he wanted, but he couldn't focus. His mind kept flitting back to his conversation with Zayn, and to the way that he'd kissed him, like it was just as much of a dream come true for Zayn as it was for Harry. But, as he lied in bed that night, he realized that they hadn't actually talked about what Zayn wanted from him. Did Zayn want them to be together, the way he was with Liam? Was he even prepared to acknowledge Harry's existence in public?

Harry got his answer as soon as he got to school. Zayn was smoking in the car park, surrounded by his mates, and he didn't say anything to Harry as he passed. Harry tried not to let it bother him, but he couldn't help but turn around for a second look as he reached the door to the school. Zayn was looking back at him, not so intently that his friends would have been able to notice from their position behind him, but still, Zayn's eyes were on him, and Harry figured that was better than nothing.

But it was nothing compared to the way that Liam greeted him, running up to him as soon as Harry walked through the doors, as if he couldn't stand to be separated from him for one more second. Liam ran into him without slowing down, and it was only his strong arms wrapping around Harry that kept him from falling down.

"Missed you, babe," he murmured against Harry's neck as he held him close.

"Missed you too," he agreed, and now that Liam was right in front of him, all shy smiles and sweet kisses, Harry realized that it was true. He had missed Liam, and he hated it. Hated that he enjoyed Liam's company so much, and that he couldn't imagine breaking up with him.

"What's this then?" Liam asked, eyes glued to Harry's neck. Harry's hand shot up, eyes widening as he felt a slight throbbing under his fingertips. He hadn't realized that Zayn had left a mark on him, not just on his heart and his mind and his soul but also on his skin, but he knew without looking that there must have been an angry red spot where Zayn had kissed him.

"Ummm, not sure..."

"I must've gotten a little rough the other day," Liam laughed. "You know I can't control myself around you," he teased, holding onto Harry a little tighter as he leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I can't stop thinking about last week. You think you might wanna get out of here so we can have a little repeat?"

Harry found himself nodding eagerly before he had even fully processed what Liam was saying. He wasn't usually one for skipping school, and Liam didn't seem to be either, but Harry knew that he wouldn't be able to focus on his schoolwork anyway, and fuck, he did want a repeat of last week. A small voice in the back of his head told him that it wouldn't help; that he should make up his mind about Zayn and Liam before he got in any deeper, but he ignored it. He wanted this, and Liam wanted this, and Zayn hadn't even bothered to say hello to him, so what was the harm?

They headed out of the school hand in hand, and of course they had to pass Zayn on their way out. He was alone this time, and because he was apparently put on this earth for the sole purpose of fucking with Harry, he decided that now was the perfect time to speak up.

"Looking good, Styles. A little tired, but good. You have a busy night or summat?"

Harry dropped his gaze to the floor, unwilling to look either Zayn or Liam in the eyes.

"Fuck off, Zayn," Liam spat, making Harry's head jerk up. Liam hardly ever cussed, and Harry didn't remember him ever saying Zayn's name before. Zayn just laughed, but it sounded off to Harry's ears, harsh and bitter. Liam picked up his pace, pulling Harry along until they'd cleared the parking lot.

"Just ignore that prick. He's always trying to piss me off, and he knows you're the best way to do that," Liam said. Harry knew that Liam meant his words to be reassuring, but they rang so false to Harry that they didn't help to settle his nerves at all, and he felt tense during the entire walk to his house.

What did help his nerves to disappear was the way that Liam kissed him, grabbing Harry and lifting him up as soon as the door was shut behind them. Harry wrapped his legs around Liam's waist and gripped his biceps as he kissed him back. Liam carried him easily, like he weighed nothing, and Harry liked it. Liked the way that Liam could manhandle him. Liked knowing that Liam had it in him to be just as rough as Zayn could be, but that he chose to be gentle with Harry, as if he was something precious.

Liam didn't put him down until they were in his room, and Harry wished that he'd taken him into the living room instead. The memory of Zayn was still too fresh, and Harry felt like he could still smell his cologne; that he'd still be able to see Zayn sitting on his bed if he squinted just right.

But then Liam pushed him back onto the bed (gently, always so gently) and reached a hand up to pull off his own shirt, and suddenly Harry couldn't see anything but the man in front of him. He was so fucking fit, tan skin stretched over perfect muscles, and Harry couldn't wait to run his hands through the light hair smattering his chest, to feel it tickle his lips as he kissed Liam everywhere.

He sat up, pulling his own shirt off in the process, and pulled Liam back down to the bed with him. Liam's skin was hot to the touch, and his bare chest rubbing against Harry's felt like nothing he'd ever experienced. Liam braced himself up on his arms after a minute, his eyes scanning over Harry's body, and Harry had to resist the urge to cover himself up. He knew that his body couldn't compete with Liam's, but for reasons that Harry couldn't fathom Liam looked at him like he was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. 

"You don't even know how gorgeous you are," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss along Harry's collarbone. "You have no idea what you do to me...I've never wanted anyone like this...never cared about anyone like this."

Harry felt his whole body heat, Liam's kisses and words combining to make him feel like fire was running wild through his veins. His entire body was humming with need, but his mind still wasn't willing to take what Liam said at face value. He'd been hurt too many times before to believe that someone like Liam could truly want him.

"I don't believe you," Harry whispered, causing Liam to pull back to look at him. Harry regretted his words immediately, because if Liam was looking at him it meant that he wasn't kissing him, and if he wasn't kissing him it gave Harry too much time to think. He didn't want to think, to have to decide, not yet.

Luckily Liam just smiled down at him, his eyes bright with promise. "Guess I'll just have to prove it to you then." With that he was back to kissing Harry again, his lips and his hips and his hands showing Harry exactly how much he wanted him. Liam was touching Harry everywhere that he could, until all Harry could feel was Liam, from his mouth on his neck to his hand on his hip to where he was pressing against Harry's thigh.

"Can you feel it, Harry? How much I want you?" Liam asked as he wrapped his fingers around Harry's wrist, guiding his hand down so that he could feel how hard he was. Harry got the hint, his hands fumbling with Liam's zipper in his haste to undress him. Liam didn't rush him, instead rolling to his side and trailing his fingers lightly up and down Harry's ribs, content to let Harry set the pace.

As soon as Harry had Liam's pants off he rolled onto his back, his hands reaching for his own zipper. He was desperate to get out of his tight jeans, and to have a repeat of last week. Liam pulled his pants down the rest of the way, climbing back on top of Harry as soon as they were off.

"Is this okay?" Liam asked, hesitantly pressing his hips down.

Harry nodded quickly. "Please. Just tell me what you want and I'll do it. I'll do anything."

"Don't say that," Liam groaned, dropping his head to Harry's shoulder as Harry spread his legs so that he could feel more of Liam. "It's taking every bit of restraint I have not to...ugh, just don't say that you'll do anything."

"I wanna know what you want. We don't have to actually do it, just tell me what you want," Harry pleaded, reaching a hand in between them. He gasped as it wrapped around Liam. Fuck, he was huge, thick and heavy in his palm, so big that it made Harry's mouth water.

He could feel Liam pushing down into his hand, so he gripped him a bit tighter, experimenting with how much pressure he applied until Liam let out a moan that went straight to Harry's dick. Liam sat up, pulling Harry with him until they were sat on the bed facing each other, in between each other's spread legs, so close that Harry could feel Liam's breath against his neck. Liam's bent legs were resting on top of Harry's, and he found that he liked the weight, liked feeling pinned down.

Liam reached forward, pulling Harry's length out of the opening in his boxers. Harry followed suit, his dick getting harder at the idea of being able to touch Liam's cock with no barrier. Liam's free hand went to the back of Harry's neck, his fingers tangling in his hair as he brought his mouth to Harry's ear.

"You feel so good in my hand, Harry, even better than I'd imagined. Does this feel good?" he whispered, running his thumb over Harry's tip. Harry moaned in response, his own hand speeding up on Liam's length.

"What'd you imagine? What do you think about doing with me?" Harry asked, needy and aching already and knowing that Liam's words would push him over the edge.

"I think about how much I want to see you spread out beneath me, begging for me to hold you down and make you feel good. I think about how good it'll feel to finally be inside you, and to fuck you until you come again and again, not stopping until you've got nothing left," he told Harry, nipping at the sensitive spot below Harry's ear as the dirty words spilled out of him. His touch was still so sweet, his hand just ghosting over Harry, and it was in such stark contrast to his sinful words that it made Harry's head spin.

"I think about that too. Want that too," Harry told him as he scooted impossibly closer, until almost every part of their bodies were touching.

"Yeah?" Liam asked, lifting his head to give Harry a sloppy kiss. "Tell me."

"Want all that too. Want you on top of me, inside of me. Want to feel every inch of you while you pin me down." Harry looked down between their bodies as he spoke, and the sight of Liam's dick, so hard and ready and only centimeters away from his own, made him come with a cry, his orgasm ripping through him.

His own hand was a blur on Liam, pumping him as fast as he could. Liam tugged on his hair, the flash of pain dragging out Harry's orgasm as Liam started to spill, coming with a strangled moan, coating Harry's hand and stomach.

They rested their heads together as they tried to catch their breath, and the next thing Harry knew Liam was peppering his face with kisses, chaste little pecks that made him feel cherished. He giggled as he shied away, still not used to the feeling of being cared for like this.

Liam helped him up and into the shower, climbing in after him so that they both could clean up. Liam was still being so gentle with him, his hands moving over Harry's body with no other intention than washing him, and Harry didn't know what to make of it. Harry had been shocked - not to mention incredibly turned on - by Liam's filthy words, and he felt a bit lost as he realized that he still had a lot to learn about him.

Now that his mind wasn't clouded by lust he could feel guilt creeping in, and he knew that he shouldn't have have hooked up with Liam again until he knew what was going on with Zayn. But Harry also knew that he wasn't any closer to deciding what he wanted. He never could have imagined that being in this position would be so difficult, but it was. Zayn had been his whole life for so long, and now he finally seemed to want Harry as well. Could Harry really give that up for a chance at a future with Liam? He didn't know, and he had no idea how to decide.

 

** *** **

 

Things felt a bit...different the next day at school. Harry couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong, but something just seemed off.

For starters he was seeing Zayn everywhere, far more often than he was used to. He was standing by the door when Harry arrived, and he always seemed to be passing him in the hallways, again and again. He never said anything to Harry, didn't give him so much as a hello, but his eyes lingered on Harry in a way that made him feel exposed, completely vulnerable. Because he was. He didn't have any defenses when it came to Zayn. One glance, one touch - he could feel it all over and he knew that it would never be enough for him. He could pretend that it wasn't so when he was alone, or with Liam, but he couldn't lie to himself when Zayn was right in front of him, looking perfect except for the fact that he was never close enough. Except for the fact that he wasn't Harry's.

Liam was acting odd as well, sticking by his side like glue, walking him to every class and practically pulling him onto his lap at lunch. He didn't bother questioning Liam about why he was being so clingy, figuring that he was hiding so much from Liam that he didn't deserve any answers.

But by far the weirdest part of the day happened when Harry was saying goodbye to Liam outside of the locker room. Liam was already late for practice, but he didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave Harry alone.

And then Zayn walked by, though Harry would have bet his life that he had no reason to be in this part of the school.

"Whoops, sorry about that," he murmured as his body brushed up against Harry's despite the fact that there was plenty of room, given that they were the only ones in the hallway. And then Zayn, who Harry had never seen display even a hint of clumsiness, tripped and started to fall forward, his hands reaching out to grab Harry's waist. "Bit crowded with all three of us here," he smirked, his hands never leaving Harry's body. Harry could feel the heat from Zayn's grip, burning him up from the inside out.

"Get the fuck away from him," Liam demanded, his voice low and rough as he pushed his way between the two boys. Zayn took a step back, but he kept one hand on Harry, his fingers digging in, as if to let him know that he wasn't going anywhere.

Harry was a little scared, not wanting the two guys he cared most about in the world to confront one another (though he knew it was coming, as inevitable as the sun setting and the tides flowing in), but his heart still beat at the same pace it always did. The same pace that it had for years.

_Zayn_

_Zayn_

_Zayn_

"Who's gonna make me? You? I'd like to see you fucking try," Zayn taunted, finally dropping his hand from Harry's side as he took a step towards Liam.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Liam sneered, shoving Zayn back. Zayn stumbled back a few steps but he was back in front of Liam in an instant, both of the boys breathing heavily as they glared at one another.

"What's going on here?" a deep voice called from the end of the hall. Harry whipped his head around to see the football coach standing there with his hands on his hips.

Liam moved so that he was standing next to Harry again. "Nothing, Coach Cowell, just discussing an assignment," he answered, his voice now back to normal.

The coach looked back and forth between Harry and Zayn suspiciously, but he must have believed Liam because he nodded. "Fine. You two, you don't belong here," he said, pointing at Harry and Zayn, and Harry couldn't help but agree. He had never felt more like he didn't belong. "Payne, get your arse out on the field," the coach added before turning and walking away.

"I gotta go, but I'll see you later, okay Hazza?" Liam asked as he moved his hands to cup Harry's cheeks, his voice and his touch all sweetness and light, all of the anger he'd exhibited just moments before gone. Harry could see Zayn rolling his eyes behind Liam, and Harry'd had enough, of both of them.

He couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't take never understanding what was going on, never knowing what to do. He had to get out of there, but he couldn't imagine sitting alone in his empty house. Not for the first time, he wished that he had other friends. Had somewhere to go to take his mind off of everything. He settled for storming off and taking the first exit he came to, pushing the door to the locker room open and leaning against it as soon as it shut behind him. He knew that it wouldn't be enough to keep either of them out if they wanted in, but he would have welcomed the intrusion at this point. Maybe this time he could actually get some answers.

He moved away from the door, his footsteps echoing in the empty space, and headed towards a bench in the back. He collapsed on top of it and pulled his Walkman out of his bag. Music had gotten him through worse situations than this. It was the one thing that had never let him down, and he'd spent countless hours in his room at his dad's house, shutting out the world and blasting his favorite songs. An angry, restless song that matched his mood filled his ears as soon as he hit play, the beat resonating in his bones and drowning out the voice in his head that told him that he was about to be ripped in two, the prize in a game between Zayn and Liam that he didn't understand the rules to.

He didn't hear Zayn come in, didn't even know that he was there until he felt his arms wrap around him. At that point he was too weak to resist, from the drama and the fighting and the music and everything. So he just let himself fall. Let himself feel whatever he wanted, without regard to the inevitable consequences.

He pushed off his headphones and turned around, pulling Zayn down on the bench next to him and attaching their lips. He needed to kiss him again. Needed to prove that their last kiss hadn't been a fluke. And if kissing Zayn had the added benefit of making him forget the outside world for a bit, all the better.

This kiss was just as good as their last one, if not better. Better because Zayn wasn't being so gentle with him this time. No, this time he was back to the Zayn that Harry had expected - had dreamed about - all firm grips and rough hands and sharp teeth. Zayn kissed Harry hungrily, like he wanted to eat him alive. And Harry wanted him to. Wanted Zayn to kiss him and consume him until there was nothing left of him. Until he belonged to Zayn, fully and without question.

Harry tried to kiss him back just as hard, to lose himself in it, but his mind kept coming back to the way that Zayn and Liam acted around each other. So as much as he wanted to keep kissing Zayn, forever if possible, he needed some answers first.

"I know what you're trying to do," Harry said as he pushed him away.

"Pretty sure we both know what I'm trying to do here," Zayn grinned, moving in and attempting to kiss Harry again.

Harry didn't let him. "I mean, I know why you keep acting weird in front of Liam. You want to provoke him, so that I'll see that he's just as violent as you are," he hissed, earning a hurt look from Zayn.

"You think this is about him? I don't give a fuck about him," he insisted.

"Do you know how many times you've said those exact same words about me, Zayn?"

"This is about you and me. It's always been about us, ever since we were kids, you know that!"

Harry just shook his head, sliding farther away from Zayn on the bench. "All I know is that you've been pulling me in and then pushing me away the entire time I've known you. I never know what to expect from you, or what you want from me, and it's too much, Zayn. I can't take it anymore."

"I'm sorry for what I did to you...for what I keep doing to you. I don't know how to handle this. I don't  _want_  to be this way. I just want to be with you, without any interference from anyone else."

"It doesn't work that way."

"Just let me show you. Let me show you how good it could be between us," he pleaded, swinging his leg over the bench and scooting closer until Harry was sitting between his thighs. He reached up, curling a hand around the back of Harry's neck and pulling him closer. "Just let me take care of you," he murmured, running his nose along Harry's jaw.

Harry just nodded, not trusting his voice as Zayn's other hand started to slide up his thigh. He turned his head, his lips meeting Zayn's for a moment before Zayn began to kiss his way down Harry's neck. "Yeah?" Zayn pressed between kisses. "You gonna let me take care of you?"

"Yeah," Harry gasped, his breath coming out in pants as Zayn dropped to his knees before him.

"I've never done this," Zayn admitted, his hands hesitating over Harry's zipper, and _fuck_. Harry had dreamed about Zayn sucking him off for years, but he'd had no idea that seeing Zayn like this, on his knees and vulnerable and unsure, would be so appealing.

"I've never...nobody's ever done this for me," he told him, hoping that that fact would reassure Zayn. It worked, Zayn's entire face brightening even as his eyes seemed to darken.

"Really? Liam's never..." he cut himself off as Harry started to cringe. "Never mind, just tell me if you don't like something."

"Okay," Harry agreed readily, desperate to have Zayn shut up and just do it already. He wished for a moment that he had it in him to be tough and forceful, to be more like Zayn or even Liam, so that he could take what he wanted without asking questions first. But he would never be like that, a fact that ceased to matter as soon as Zayn's tongue made contact with the tip of his dick. Everything ceased to matter as Zayn's perfect lips wrapped around Harry. Liam didn't matter, the strange battle between the two boys didn't matter, hell the locker room could have caught fire and it wouldn't have mattered. Not when Zayn was taking him all the way in, his cheeks hollowing with the effort, sucking Harry off like it was what he was born to do.

Harry had never had a blow job before, but he could still tell that Zayn had never given one. That only made it better for Harry, who loved that he was the only one that Zayn was willing to do this for. What he lacked in experience he made up for in enthusiasm, and the blow job was sloppy and slow and rough but still perfect. Perfect because it was Zayn's mouth on him, and Zayn's hand stroking what he couldn't fit in his mouth. It was Zayn looking up at him, and Zayn reaching his free hand down to rub himself through his jeans.

Harry wanted this moment to last forever, but a part of him was afraid that someone, including Liam, might walk in on them at any moment, and there was no way that he wanted this to be over before he finished.

"Faster. Liam will be here soon," he begged, running a hand through Zayn's hair. He said it as gently as he could, not wanting to boss Zayn around and piss him off, but Zayn seemed all too eager to comply, bobbing his head more quickly until Harry could feel himself hit the back of Zayn's throat. Zayn hummed, and that was all it took for Harry to lose it. His whole body trembled with the force of his orgasm, but he immediately tried to pull away, horrified that he'd come without warning Zayn first.

Zayn's mouth followed Harry's cock, and Harry let out a sigh of relief, a flush painting his cheeks as he realized that Zayn  _wanted_  to swallow him down. And then Zayn was standing up and undoing his own jeans, and Harry couldn't think anymore. He acted instead, helping Zayn pull his jeans down and wrapping a hand around him, pumping him as his lips met his tip.

Zayn moaned, snapping his hips forward, making Harry gag on it. Harry loved it, and wanted more. He closed his eyes and dropped his hands to his side before putting them behind his back. Zayn got the hint, both of his hands coming up to grab Harry's head, his palms on top of Harry's ears as he held him still and began to fuck his mouth.

"You like that? You like my cock in your mouth?" Zayn asked, his thrusts getting faster and faster.

Harry moaned in response, doing his best to open his throat for Zayn. He had no idea what he was doing so he just tried to do what felt right. And what felt right to Harry, what had always felt right to him, was doing whatever would make Zayn happy.

"Fuck, that feels so good. You ready for me?" he asked, his hands squeezing Harry's head tighter as he gave a few more pumps and started to come. Harry just took it, trying to hold in all in his mouth, and grinned dazedly up at Zayn after swallowing.

Zayn smiled back, but his eyes went from gentle to hard as they both heard voices and a steady stream of feet coming down the hallway. They were close, close enough that they should have been able to hear them before, but they'd both been too caught up in each other to notice.

Zayn sprang into action before Harry had even fully comprehended what was happening, grabbing Harry's shoulder roughly to pull him off of the bench just as the door to the locker room started to open.

 

*******

 

Harry and Zayn made it out the back door of the locker room just as the football team streamed in through the front, both of them out of breath from their short sprint. Harry leaned against the brick wall of the school, clutching his stomach as he tried to decide whether to laugh or throw up.

"I feel like my heart's in my throat," he gasped to Zayn, trying to will his heart rate to return to normal.

"It's the adrenaline. Pretty sick, right?" Zayn said, bumping his shoulder against Harry's and zipping up his jeans. Harry did the same, laughter bubbling out of him at the reminder that they'd had each other's dicks in their mouths only moments before.

"That was way too fucking close," Zayn admitted, letting out a deep breath as they rounded the corner.

"I can't believe we made it out without them seeing us," Harry said, a tinge of the hysterical creeping into his voice as a wave of relief washed over him. They so easily could have been caught on that bench, pants around their ankles and come fresh on their breath. But his relief was short lived, and he realized that in the end it might have been better if they'd stayed sat on that bench, because in their haste to flee the scene they hadn't thought about the fact that this exit led to the field. The field where Liam was still practicing.

He was out there alone, looking as fit as ever in his footie jersey, which was soaked in sweat and sticking to his chest in a way that Harry would normally find distracting, but all Harry could see was the expression of disbelief on his face as he turned to look at him and Zayn. He appeared to be just as bewildered as Harry'd been feeling since they'd first met, but his look of confusion was quickly replaced with one of fury.

Time slowed down for Harry as Liam strode towards them, allowing every detail of this moment to be seared into his brain. Liam was walking towards them with purpose, his brows knitted together and his mouth set in a hard line, and his focus was entirely on Zayn, as if Harry wasn't even there.

"I told you to stay the fuck away from him," Liam growled as he reached them, shoving Zayn to get him away from where he stood next to Harry.

"Well, maybe you've forgotten that I don't have to do a goddamn thing you say. If I wanna spend time with Harry then I'm gonna spend time with him. 'Cause guess what? He  _loves_  spending time with me. He can't fucking get enough of me."

"You're full of shit. He's just too nice to tell you to fuck off," Liam insisted, flinging a possessive arm around Harry's shoulders. Zayn glared at Liam's hand where it rested on Harry, the jealousy that was coursing through him evident on his face.

"Oh yeah? Why don't you give him a kiss then? See how my dick taste," Zayn taunted, one eyebrow raised and smirk firmly in place.

Liam dropped his arm as he turned to look at Harry, asking with his eyes if Zayn was telling the truth. Harry had to nod - he had to, his head moving of its own volition. He couldn't lie to Liam again, nor could he deny what was happening between him and Zayn, not when he'd been wanting it for so long.

Liam's face turned beet red, and if Harry'd thought that he'd looked angry before it was nothing,  _nothing_ , compared to how he looked now. He was actually fuming, his breath coming out in puffs as his face got darker and darker.

"I don't know what you said to him to make him do that, but you have no right to use him just to get to me!" he shouted at Zayn, stepping away from Harry so that he could crowd against Zayn.

"You conceited motherfucker. Just because you're obsessed with me doesn't mean that I give a shit about you. Harry is mine. He's been mine since long before you ever came to town and nothing you can do will ever change that," Zayn spat. He never raised his voice, but something about his tone made the hair on the back of Harry's neck stand up. Zayn was holding perfectly still, his shoulders broad and his fists clenched at his sides, and everything about his stance radiated anger. Harry was sure that he was about to lose it.

He'd seen Zayn this angry before, but it'd always been directed at him. To see it from the outside was totally new, but equally terrifying, and despite Liam being bigger Harry genuinely feared that he was about to get hurt.

And then they were hitting each other, so fast that Harry couldn't even tell who'd thrown the first punch, and Harry was screaming at them to stop. They didn't listen; didn't do anything but continue to pummel each other. Harry was pretty sure that they'd forgotten he was even there. He gaped at them, thinking of all the things that they'd said to each other, watching the familiar way they circled one another, almost as if...almost as if...

Harry took a step back, the air knocked out of his lungs as everything clicked into place in his head. Their animosity, their familiarity, their constant battle over Harry...it all added up to one thing.

"Oh my god, you two...you two..."

The other boys immediately broke apart and looked over at Harry, as if just remembering that he was still there. Liam's eye was rapidly swelling shut and Zayn's lip was gushing blood, but Harry knew for a fact that neither of them was feeling a fraction of the pain that he was.

"Hazza, it was a long time ago, and it only happened once. I should've told you, but I had no idea he'd use you like this," Liam rushed to reassure him. It didn't work, Harry feeling more and more off balance as visions of Zayn and Liam together flashed through his head. He could see them touching, kissing, sucking - oh god, fucking - and bloody hell, he was going to be sick.

He didn't even have time to turn around, his humiliation increasing as he threw up the contents of his stomach until their was nothing left. Liam stepped forward and Harry felt his hand on his back, rubbing small circles that were probably meant to be comforting but only made Harry think of Liam's hands on Zayn. He shrugged him off but stayed crouched down, resting his hands on his knees and trying to get a hold of himself.

He didn't feel like he had the strength to stand up but he forced himself to, knowing that he had to face them before he could get out of there. He longed for his bedroom, to curl up under his covers and cry himself to sleep. He looked at them as he wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand. Liam was staring at him, his eyes damp, but Zayn was looking at the ground.

No one said anything, and the silence was overwhelming. Silence filled only by the sound of Harry's heart breaking. He looked back and forth between the two boys, wondering why they weren't rushing towards him, trying to save him. Because surely he had to be dying, his insides feeling like they were being shredded. It didn't feel like a punch to the gut, not like Zayn's past insults and hits had. No, Harry was sure he was being torn apart from the inside out.

He felt like the biggest idiot in the world. How could he ever have thought that either Zayn or Liam wanted him? Why would they, when there were so many other, better options in the world? This had all obviously been a big fucking joke, some sort of sick game. Harry flushed in shame, imagining how many times they must have laughed at him behind his back.

He didn't know when this had all started, or why they'd targeted them, but he knew that he couldn't face them anymore. He turned and walked away, willing himself not to cry until he was away from them. He wasn't sure if he'd expected them to follow him - to fight for him, just a little - or if he even wanted them too, but in the end it didn't matter. They both let him walk away, which was all the proof that Harry needed that he'd never mattered to either of them. That he'd never mattered to anyone.

 

*******

 

Zayn and Liam. Liam and Zayn. Harry wasn't stupid; he'd known that both of them had been with other people before, but he'd never imagined that they'd been with each other. He still couldn't imagine it; couldn't reconcile the Liam that he thought he knew with someone who would ever be with someone like Zayn. And maybe a small part of him had hoped that he'd been the only guy that Zayn had ever thought of that way. But he'd obviously been wrong, about both of them, and about what he'd meant to either of them.

He walked by several people on his way home, wondering how they didn't realize that they were passing someone whose whole world was falling apart. Whose whole life had been a lie. Because he'd felt more alive these last couple of months than he had for his entire life, and he'd thought that maybe Liam and Zayn had felt the same way, but no, they'd just been using him.

Harry had felt broken for most of his life, but he didn't have the words to explain what he was now. Maybe there wasn't even a word for how destroyed he felt. He couldn't imagine that anyone else had ever felt this kind of pain and lived to tell about it.

The walk home seemed to take forever, but that could have been because he couldn't stop looking over his shoulder, and listening for footsteps behind him, hoping against hope that someone would think that he was important enough to follow. To fight for.

But no one chased after him, and he arrived home all alone. He leaned back against the door as soon as he shut it behind him and let his tears finally fall. They seemed to pour out of him - giant, racking sobs that he had no control over. He'd cried so many times before, but never like this, when he couldn't tell whether he felt more hurt or angry. Those emotions seemed to be waging a war within him, and he didn't think that one would be able to triumph over the other without destroying him completely.

He didn't know how long he cried for, only that he felt exhausted by the time he finished. Exhausted and empty. He felt like there was nothing left inside if him, if there'd been anything but lies there in the first place. He needed something to fill him up, to close the hole that Zayn and Liam had left in his heart. He doubted that he would ever find another man to love him, so he turned to the one thing that he had available to help numb his pain.

The drinks went down easy, one after another, until Harry lost count of them. His vision got more and more blurred as his head got more and more fuzzy, but the pain was still there. He still didn't know why he wasn't good enough, for either Zayn or Liam, or what he had done to deserve them turning his life and his love into a joke.

He needed details. He needed to know how long they'd been together, how it'd started, when it had ended and how many times they'd laughed about him behind his back. He needed to know why. So he called the one person who he hoped would be honest with him.

Harry worked himself up as he waited for him to arrive, thinking of all of the questions that he needed answered. But when he opened his front door to see Liam's sad face looking back at him some of his anger seemed to drain out of him. Liam's eyes were puffy and red, making it obvious that he'd been crying too, and it made Harry want to cry again, over the unfairness of it all.

He stepped aside to let Liam in, and Liam walked by him carefully, as if he wanted to be sure that they didn't touch, and Harry felt like his heart was breaking once more.

"Am I so disgusting that you can't even stand to touch me now? You didn't seem to mind putting your hands on me when you were tricking me into falling for you!" he yelled at Liam as he stumbled after him into the living room.

Liam turned around to look at him, a pained look on his face. "Are you kidding me right now? I don't want to touch you because if I do I'll fall apart. I can't handle being hurt by you again."

"You can't handle being hurt by  _me_? Are you fucking kidding me?" Harry slurred, the alcohol making it hard for him to think straight. "You're the one who lied throughout our entire relationship!"

"I never lied to you, Harry. Maybe I should've told you that Zayn and I hooked up, but I didn't think that I had to, 'cause I never imagined that you would ever.. _.you cheated on me_. How could you do that to me, Harry?"

Harry couldn't wrap his brain around what Liam was saying. In his shock over learning about Zayn and Liam he'd completely forgotten the fact that, no matter what the true circumstances were, he'd cheated on Liam. That fact was undeniably true, and undeniably horrible. He felt more ashamed and confused than ever as he looked at Liam. He was so handsome, and seemed so sincere, but between the drinks and the anger and the hurt Harry no longer knew which way was up and which was down.

"Just...just tell me one thing. Did you ever care about me at all?" he asked quietly.

"What? Of course I did, Hazza," Liam said softly, and Harry couldn't ignore the way his heart fluttered when Liam called him by his nickname. "It's Zayn that I never cared about. It was just a one off, a drunken hookup when I first moved here. I never even really talked to him again, not until you and I started dating. And I would've told you, but I never thought that you would...that you would do something like that. But I should have told you, I see that now. I should have said something the minute he started messing with us. I just never thought that he'd take it this far."

"So none if this was, like, a joke? You weren't just using me to get back at him or anything? You guys never laughed at me behind my back?"

"Hazza, haven't you heard anything I've been saying? I've liked you since the minute I met you, and it kills me that you can't see how wonderful you are. I've tried to show you, and tell you, so many times, but I feel like I can't get through to you. Maybe that's why you went running off to him." Liam looked totally dejected as he spoke, as if he was giving up, and Harry felt a rush of panic flood through him.

Here was Liam, sweet Liam who had never lied to him or willingly hurt him, who had warned him again and again to stay away from Zayn, looking at Harry as if he didn't even know who he was anymore. All at once Harry realized how stupid he'd been, not to fall for Liam, but to let Zayn - Zayn who had lied to him and hurt him and used him, again and again - come between what he and Liam had. He knew that he still wasn't over Zayn, and he doubted he ever would be, but he wasn't ready to give up on what he and Liam had just yet.

"Do you think maybe you'd be willing to keep trying? To keep showing me, and telling me, how you feel about me? I know I don't deserve it, but I'm so sorry for hurting you, and I really wish that you wouldn't give up on me just yet."

Liam was quiet for a moment, and Harry felt like he was holding his only chance at happiness in his hands. The seconds seemed to drag on as Harry waited for his answer, and with each passing one Harry realized more and more just how much Liam meant to him. 

Just when Harry felt like he couldn't take it anymore, that he'd scream if Liam didn't say something right that second, Liam finally spoke. "I really like you, Harry, but if we're gonna make this work then that means that we have to be totally honest with each other. And it means that you have to stay away from him. I mean it, I don't ever want you near him again."

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, and ignored the little voice in the back of his head telling him that he'd never truly be able to stay away from Zayn. He nodded at Liam, speaking the words that he knew that Liam needed to hear, hoping that he could make them sound as sincere as he wished they were. Hoping that by saying them out loud he could make them true.

"I'll stay away from him. I only want you."

 

*******

 

Things went back to normal for a while after that, or at least to what Harry'd always imagined a normal relationship would be like. Liam seemed to forgive Harry almost immediately, and though Harry could tell that Liam blamed everything on Zayn - when Harry knew that he was equally at fault, if not more so - he let it go, grateful that Liam was giving him a chance to make things right and not wanting to rock the boat.

Harry had reluctantly opened up to Liam about all that had happened with Zayn before Harry had moved away, and though he'd skirted over the details of their hookups since he'd returned, knowing their history only strengthened Liam's resolve that Harry stay as far away from Zayn as possible. 

Harry tried to resign himself to this fate - a life without Zayn - but Zayn had other ideas. Ideas that involved refusing to leave Harry alone. It was just Harry's luck that this was the one time that Zayn didn't want to take the path of least resistance.

It started with longing looks, Zayn peering at him from across the hallway, want written all over his face, which led to lingering touches and forced meetings. Zayn brushed against him whenever they passed each other - when Liam wasn't around, anyway - and he followed Harry into the loo more than once. He never said anything, just stood next to him at the sink, watching him in the mirror and running a hand down Harry's back as he walked by - touches that felt far too intimate to Harry, and too important, considering that he'd promised Liam that he no longer felt anything for Zayn.

He couldn't deny that he still yearned for Zayn, his feelings just as strong and overwhelming as ever. But things were so good with Liam, better than ever really, and Harry didn't want to fuck that up, especially since he wasn't convinced that Zayn actually wanted him, for real. He feared, deep down in the darkest parts of himself that he did his best to hide from Liam, that the only reason Zayn was paying him any attention was because he was with Liam.

And Harry couldn't imagine giving Liam up, ever. He was everything you could hope for in a boyfriend. Kind, affectionate and adorable. And the way he touched Harry - like he was afraid to break him and thought that he was so precious that he should be locked away in a cabinet, out of reach where no damage could be done, but that he had to touch him anyway, because he couldn't breathe without the feel of Harry's skin against his own - drove Harry crazy in the best possible way.

Once he'd gotten over the initial shock, Harry had quickly found that learning that Liam and Zayn had been together did nothing to lessen his desire for Liam. If anything he felt more turned on than ever, dreams of how good they must have looked together frequently replacing the nightmares that had been plaguing him for so long.

He wished that he could ask Liam to tell him exactly what they'd done together, and how it had felt, but he knew that it was wrong. Wrong for him to imagine those things, or to want to see them for himself. He was ashamed of how quickly he got hard when he thought of them together, but that didn't stop him from picturing them pressed against one another as he lied in bed every night after Liam left, images of Zayn pushing into Liam, or Liam's lips wrapped around Zayn forcing his hand under the covers.

Liam seemed more attracted to Harry than ever, and Harry sometimes wondered if his now insatiable need for Harry was his way of marking his territory. Not that Harry could bring himself to care, since he wanted Liam just as badly. 

Liam's mouth was a gift, his plump pink lips made just for Harry. His hands were magical, working over Harry with the perfect amount of pressure, knowing when Harry needed soft touches and when he craved rough strokes. And Harry was prepared to become a lifelong football fan if the sport was responsible for Liam's stamina, which was enough that at times Harry had to beg for relief, or a break, which never failed to make Liam giggle and pull him into a cuddle until Harry was ready to go for round two.

There was just one thing that they still hadn't done together, even after they'd been dating for months. He'd made it fairly (incredibly) clear that he was ready for the next step, but Liam always claimed that he wanted to wait until everything was perfect. Harry still wasn't sure what perfect meant to Liam, but he didn't want to pressure him, so he waited, as patiently as he could.

His patience finally paid off on Christmas Eve. A light snow was falling, promising a rare white Christmas, when Harry heard a soft knock on his door. He opened it to see Liam standing on his front stoop, his eyes bright as he smiled at Harry. "Happy Christmas, Haz."

Harry grinned right back at him. "Happy Christmas to you. Do you want to come in?"

Liam shook his head. "You think you can come to mine for the night? My parents went to me nan's, but I told them I'd meet them there tomorrow."

"You want me to come over? And your parent's aren't home?" Harry asked. As soon as Liam nodded Harry was pulling on his shoes and coat and scribbling a quick note for his mum before heading out the door, grabbing Liam's hand as he hurried towards the sidewalk. He didn't have a toothbrush or a change of clothes, but he knew that Liam would give him whatever he needed. He always did.

"Eager are we?" Liam laughed as he pulled Harry to a stop. "My dad left me his car for the night," he said, opening the door for Harry and helping him inside.

"A whole night alone with you?" Harry said once Liam was seated next to him. "Hell yeah I'm eager."

Liam's face lit up at that, and the fond look that he shot Harry before pulling away from the curb warmed Harry up from the inside out, making the cold wind outside feel insignificant. It was nice and toasty in the car, both from the heat seeping through the vents and the warmth of Liam's hand in his own.

The ride to Liam's only took a few minutes, and though he'd been there a couple of times before, Harry was still a bit overwhelmed by the sight of the house as they pulled up his driveway. It really wasn't all that fancy, but it was a world away from Harry's tiny house, reminding him once again that Liam was out of his league. He'd met both of Liam's parents on his previous visits, and though they'd both been nothing but kind, Harry was buzzing at the thought of having this huge house all to themselves for an entire night.

Liam led him into the living room once they were inside. It had been decorated to the nines for the holiday, a huge tree in front of a bay window dominating the space. "Wow, it really feels like Christmas in here, what with the snow and the tree and all."

"Is it okay that we're here? I know we usually hang out at your house, but I love Christmas, and I really wanted to share it with you-"

"There's no where else I'd rather be," Harry interrupted Liam before he could ramble on for too long, wanting to reassure him. "I love it."

"I love you," Liam blurted, before slapping a hand over his mouth. "Shit, I didn't mean to say that. I mean, I meant to say it, but I had a whole speech prepared, and I was gonna wait until after we had some Christmas pudding, and now I've gone and messed it all up. I'm sor-"

"You didn't mess anything up," Harry told him. He felt like he was about to float away, carried off on a cloud of happiness. He'd never dared imagine that anyone would say those words to him, let alone someone that he loved right back. "I love you too."

"You do?" Liam asked with a big smile, moving closer to Harry so that he could take both of his hands in his. "You mean it?"

"I mean it," Harry told him, because he did. No matter what he felt for Zayn, he knew without a doubt that he loved Liam. He loved his smile and his dorky dance moves and his arms and how perfectly they fit around Harry. Loved his soft touches and sweet words. Loved how dirty he could be when he was turned on, and how much he wanted Harry, all the time. "I love you, Li."

With that Liam was kissing him, and Harry could tell right away that something had changed between them. The kiss was still gentle, but all of the hesitancy that Liam usually showed was missing. Harry melted into it, his heart feeling steadier than ever even as his body became more and more excited, a sense of calm thrumming under his building need for Liam.

He pulled away from Liam's lips as soon as he realized why he felt so different, needing to tell him right away. "I believe you," he said quietly, his voice full of wonder at this new development. "I never thought I'd really be able to believe it - that someone as wonderful as you would ever love me - but I do. I know you really love me, and I hope you know that I love you just as much."

Liam looked at him questioningly for a second before his eyes lit up. The biggest, most genuine smile Harry had ever seen soon followed, and Liam pulled him into a tight hug, letting Harry know how happy he was. And then they were kissing again, both of them pouring all of the love they felt for one another into it.

Harry shrugged out of his coat as quickly as he could without breaking the kiss as Liam did the same. They fell to a heap on the floor in front of the tree as Harry tripped trying to kick his trainers off, but neither of them cared. They didn't care about anything but the way their mouths moved in perfect unison, and how good it felt to have their bodies pressed together.

Their clothes disappeared item by item, both of them laughing as Harry tried to speed things up, wanting to get to the good stuff, and Liam tried to slow them down, wanting it to be perfect. And when they were finally naked, the lights on the tree illuminating their bare skin, and Liam slid into him, soft chants of  _I love you I love you so much_  falling from his lips and helping Harry to push past the pain to the pleasure, Harry felt happier than he'd ever thought he deserved to be.

Harry knew that this was what losing his virginity should have been like. All sweet kisses and fumbling hands, bruised foreheads and nervous giggles. He hadn't gotten any of that his first time around, but that just made this time all the more special. All of this was new to him, because Liam was nothing like Zayn. And though the memory of Zayn was still there, as ever-present as always, it felt a little fuzzier, a little farther away, with Liam's body blanketing his own.

They made love slowly, Liam driving him to the edge again and again, only to pull back each time, telling Harry how good it was going to be when he finally fell. And it was good - perfect, really - when Liam finally wrapped a hand around him, stroking him in time with his thrusts. They came together, breathing in each other's moans as they held each other tight.

Liam stared down at him after they'd finished, pushing Harry's sweaty curls off of his forehead with gentle fingers. He looked at Harry with so much love that it made Harry's heart feel too big for his chest, and Harry pulled him closer, knowing that he never wanted to let him go.

So later, when they were cuddling on the couch, Scrooged playing in the background, and Liam asked him what he hoped to get for Christmas, Harry knew what he needed to say. His eyes shone brightly as he told Liam that he didn't need anything else - that he already had everything he could ever want, right there in his arms - and as Liam started to kiss him again, it almost felt true.

 

*******

 

Harry quickly learned that Liam brought the same care and work ethic that he exhibited in everyday life into the bedroom. He seemed to know a million different ways to please Harry, and enjoyed learning new tricks too, exploring Harry's body like it was a game that he needed to win. The same dichotomy that had always fascinated Harry was present during these times too, Liam able to switch between sweet and tentative to rough and sinful and back again, fast enough to make Harry dizzy. Every time with Liam felt new, and made Harry fall a little bit more in love with him.

Which wasn't to say that he was falling out of love with Zayn. He didn't understand why he still thought of Zayn so often, or how he could miss what he'd never truly had. But he did. He missed Zayn just as much as he had while he'd been living with his dad. Even more so, really, since now he had to see Zayn at school and around town, and put up with the looks that Zayn sent him, all pouty lips and batting eyelashes. It drove Harry crazy, how much of a hold Zayn still had over him, even from afar.

Liam hadn't let up on his anti-Zayn stance, not even a little bit. Not that they ever spoke about him. Harry knew instinctively that Zayn's name was off limits, just as he knew that distance was doing nothing to lessen his feelings for the other man. He felt guilty all the time, knowing that Liam deserved his whole heart but unable to give it to him no matter how hard he tried. Because he did try. He averted his gaze from Zayn whenever they passed by one another, and he forced himself to flinch away from Zayn's furtive touches, when all he really wanted to do was to lean into them, and to beg for more. He wanted to feel Zayn's hands - and his mouth - everywhere, all the time. But that wouldn't have been fair to Liam, so he locked up that part of himself - the part that had always loved Zayn and always would - and did his best to pretend that he and Zayn were nothing more than strangers.

His plan wasn't perfect, but it was working well enough until one cold January night, when Zayn showed up on his doorstep. One look at him leaning on Harry's door frame, his eyes soft and full of want, and Harry knew that he'd just been crazy. Crazy to think that he would ever have the strength to stay away from Zayn if Zayn pressed the issue even a little bit. Crazy to have pretended that he didn't miss the way that he felt being around Zayn - like his blood had been electrocuted, excitement buzzing through him, his whole body tingling from Zayn's proximity.

So Harry moved aside without saying a word, knowing that he didn't have it in him to turn Zayn away without at least hearing what he'd come for.

"Did you know it's my birthday?" Zayn asked once they were in Harry's living room, Zayn sat on the sofa while Harry hovered awkwardly (always awkward around Zayn, without fail) nearby. Harry remembered, of course he did, the date seared into his brain, but he still shook his head no, not wanting to admit as much. "Course you didn't. Guess you've got more important things on your mind now," he grumbled, his face falling in a way that made Harry's heart hurt.

"Happy birthday, then," Harry said quickly, hoping to wipe that pathetic look off of Zayn's face.

It worked, one side of Zayn's mouth quirking up in a crooked smile. "It's been a pretty terrible birthday so far," he said before pausing to pull Harry down onto the sofa with him. "I'm hoping there might still be a chance to turn it around though."

Harry's stomach twisted a bit at that, both out of a desire to find out where Zayn was going with this and in warning to walk away before he did something he couldn't take back. Not that there was any hope of him walking away from Zayn in that moment, or ever. It'd been so long since they'd been alone like this, with no fear of anyone walking by them or listening in on their conversation, and Harry was already hating the foot of space between them on the sofa. So he couldn't really be blamed for scooting a bit closer to Zayn, because when it came to Zayn he'd never been able to control his baser instincts. It was probably what had always drawn him to Zayn - he made Harry forget about the rest of the world, or what was expected of him, allowing him to focus completely on his emotions, be it lust or anger or love or hate. Around Zayn what he wanted always seemed more important that was was right, and there was a kind of freedom in giving into that.

"I've missed you, Harry. I tried to stay away because I really do want you to be happy, and I know you chose Liam, but it's my birthday today, and I could only think of one person that I wanted to spend it with."

"Me?" Harry asked, needing to hear it again. Needing confirmation that he wasn't dreaming.

"You," Zayn confirmed, his face now close enough that Harry could feel him breathing, his fingers skimming along the side of Harry's thigh through his jeans. "It's always been you. Only you, Harry."

His words cut through the fog in Harry's mind, reminding him of the last time they'd spoken. His anger came back with a vengeance, blotting out everything else he'd been feeling for Zayn since he'd walked in the door. 

"Except it hasn't always been just me, has it? You just had to fuck Liam, didn't you?" Harry asked, his hurt clear in his voice. "You couldn't let me have one little thing that had nothing to do with you. You've fucked me over countless times, you drove me from my home, from the town I grew up in, and now this?"

" _That was different_ ," Zayn insisted as he stood up and started pacing the room, enunciating each word carefully in an attempt to get his point across. "I was at a party and totally trashed, so I went to look for somewhere to sleep it off. I didn't know it was his room, or even his house. And yeah, when someone climbed into bed with me I didn't exactly push them away," he admitted, turning to face Harry once again, stepping closer and closer with each word as he continued.

"I was drunk and it was dark and he was about your size and I just...you'd been gone for so long, and I just wanted you back. So I let myself pretend for a few minutes, that it was you in that bed with me. But I felt like shit afterwards, 'cause it wasn't you. So I told him to keep his fucking mouth shut and I never so much as talked to him again until you two started...whatever. There's nothing between him and me now. There never was.  _There's only you_."

Zayn bent over Harry as he he finished speaking, moving his face right in front of Harry's, their lips centimeters apart, his hands firm on Harry's thighs.

"We can't do this," Harry said quickly, before Zayn got even closer and he lost the ability to speak. "Liam loves me."

"You think he's the only one?" Zayn asked, standing up straight and taking a small step away from Harry.

Harry paused as he replayed Zayn's words in his head, trying to decipher them for a hidden meaning. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Would I be here, making a fool of myself, if I didn't?"

"You're lying," Harry shook his head, unable to believe what Zayn was implying no matter how much he wanted it to be true. "It can't be true if you can't even say it."

"I fucking love you, alright!" Zayn shouted, running a hand through his hair and tugging on his quiff. His eyes were wild as he looked down at Harry. Scared, almost. Like he'd just admitted his deepest, darkest secret. "Are you fucking happy now?"

A bubble of laughter burst out of Harry, and he slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. He felt giddy, and he couldn't stop laughing, even with Zayn glaring at him.

"What's so goddamn funny?" Zayn demanded, his hands balled into fists.

"I'm just happy. I'm really fucking happy right now," Harry told him, his laughter dying as his joy took over, forcing him to grin ear to ear, his dimples on full display.

Zayn's expression softened at that. "You are?" he asked shyly. "Why does that make you so happy, to hear that I...you know?"

"'Cause I love you too, you asshole," Harry beamed at him. "I've pretty much loved you since primary school, and don't you dare pretend to be surprised by that, because we both know I was incredibly obvious about it."

Zayn shrugged, his nose scrunching up as he nodded. "Yeah, I guess you kinda were," he agreed with a chuckle. "But just because I didn't want to skip around holding your hand or wear those goddamn friendship bracelets you used to make doesn't mean I wasn't feeling it too. It was...how I feel was always there, no matter how much I tried to bury it. But I'm not gonna go blabbing on about it now either, so don't expect any of that sappy shit, okay?"

"You mean you wanna be with me? Like, as a couple?"

Zayn cringed. "Fuck, Harry, I dunno. Can't we just like, have fun for a bit?"

"You know we can't," Harry sighed. "I'm with Liam."

"That just makes it more fun," Zayn said with a smirk before turning more serious. "Just break up with him already."

"I don't want to break up with him," Harry said without thinking. He hadn't meant to say that, but he realized as he spoke the words that they were true. Even if Zayn wanted to date him, for real, with no hiding, he still wanted to be with Liam.

Zayn didn't seem happy with that answer, not even a little bit, but the wicked gleam in his eyes told Harry that he wasn't about to give up. "Guess I'll just have to convince you to change your mind then," he said, reaching for Harry's hands and pulling him off of the sofa, walking backwards towards the hallway, and Harry's bedroom. "I might have a few tricks up my sleeve, and you know I never give up before I get my way."

Harry did know that - he was intimately aware of that fact, actually. But he still let Zayn lead him to his bedroom, and he still let him push him down onto his bed. He fell onto his back with a huff and looked up to see Zayn's eyes trailing over his body possessively, like he owned every part of Harry and was about to prove it to him.

And Harry couldn't deny it - that Zayn owned every part of him. He always had. He was such a big part of Harry's past, and Harry wanted him to be just as big a part of his future. Zayn had wormed his way into Harry's life the moment they'd met on that playground all those years ago, and he'd dominated his thoughts and claimed his heart in the years that followed. Harry didn't know how to reconcile that with the stake that Liam also had on his heart, but he pushed that worry aside. Zayn loved him -  _loved him_  - and all he wanted for his birthday was Harry, and Harry wanted to give Zayn what he wanted, and to love him right back.

Zayn pulled off his flannel shirt and vest top, chucking them onto the floor, as Harry did the same. He climbed on top of Harry, sliding in between Harry's legs as he grabbed a fistful of Harry's curls. He didn't ask for permission before kissing him, just bent his head and brought their mouths together, his lips already parted, as if he knew that Harry wasn't going to turn away.

The hand in Harry's hair tightened as he deepened the kiss, and Harry moaned into his mouth, which seemed to make Zayn come alive. He started to kiss along Harry's jaw and down his neck and up to his ear and then back again, almost as if in a frenzy, like he couldn't get enough. "It's been too fucking long," he murmured before sucking a bruise onto Harry's chest.

Harry tried to push him away, the rational part of his brain reminding him that he couldn't get marked up. Zayn went willingly, using the opportunity to sit back on his heels as he undid his jeans. He rolled off of Harry and almost fell off of the bed as he tried to pull them off at the same time as his trainers, grunting in frustration as they got stuck.

"So graceful," Harry giggled, for once not feeling fearful of what would happen if he teased Zayn. Zayn glared at him, but a smile was playing at his lips, making Harry feel hot all over. He rarely got to see the playful side of Zayn, and its rarity only made him love it more.

"Yeah, cause you're a fucking ballerina. Stop grinning like an idiot and get naked. Wanna look at you," Zayn ordered.

Harry had been aching to get undressed for what felt like ages, his length straining painfully against his zipper, but he'd wanted to wait until Zayn told him to do it. He scrambled to get his jeans off, his fingers fumbling with his button under the heavy weight of Zayn's gaze.

Zayn took a moment to look Harry up and down once he was undressed, his eyes lingering on where Harry was hard and ready. Harry was torn - he wanted to make this last, and to kiss everyone of Zayn's tattoos, tracing them with his tongue until Zayn couldn't take it anymore, but he was also ready to have Zayn inside of him, needing to see if it would feel different now that he knew that Zayn loved him back.

Zayn made the decision for him, settling back against the headboard as he lubed himself up. "You wanna ride me?"

Harry nodded as he sat up and straddled Zayn's hips, hovering over Zayn. "You ready?"

"Can't wait to be inside you," Zayn breathed as Harry started to slide down onto his length. Harry gasped, both in pleasure and pain, but Zayn kept a steadying hand on his hip while the other snaked into his hair, pulling him down so that he could kiss him through it.

Zayn groaned once he was fully inside, his dick twitching as he tried to stay still. Harry knew that it was hard for Zayn to cede control like this, so he started to roll his hips, wanting to make it feel good for him. Zayn rested his head back against the headboard as Harry increased his pace, using Zayn's moans as a guide to set the perfect pace. Zayn never looked away, watching Harry intently as he bounced on his dick, squeezing his hips in encouragement.

"You look so fucking good like this. Like you were made for my cock," he said as he planted his feet on the bed, allowing him to fuck up into Harry. Harry moaned as Zayn hit that special spot inside of him, and Zayn gripped him tighter, and fucked him even harder. "Right there? That feel good?"

"Feels...fucking...amazing," Harry managed to moan, his orgasm already so close, humming under his skin like a promise. It was all too much - Zayn looked too hot, and the sounds tumbling from his lips were too sexy. He felt too good inside of Harry, and Harry could still taste his kisses on his tongue. And best of all, Zayn loved Harry, and Harry loved Zayn.

That was all it took - the reminder that Zayn loved him, and that maybe he always had - to push Harry over the edge. His orgasm rocked through him, fireworks bursting behind his eyelids as his body stiffened and he came between them, moaning Zayn's name and how much he loved him. 

He barely noticed Zayn pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him. He held Harry's hands above his head, his fingers tight around Harry's wrists as he fucked into him harshly, chasing his own orgasm. Harry's entire body was sensitive from coming so hard, and he felt pinpricks of pain wherever Zayn touched him, but he liked it. He let the pain serve as a reminder that this was real, and that it was really happening, and he clenched around Zayn tighter, wanting Zayn to wreck his body if that was what he needed to do to reach his peak.

Zayn's entire body stilled as he started to spill into Harry. His fingers released Harry's wrists as they slid up to hold his hands, and his lips searched for whatever skin they could find as his length throbbed inside of Harry, giving him everything that he had. "I love you so fucking much," he whispered, like it was a secret just between them.

"I love you too," Harry told him quietly, squeezing his hands as Zayn's head fell to rest against Harry's shoulder. Zayn pulled out a few seconds later, far sooner that Harry would have liked, but the move was softened with a quick kiss on the lips before Zayn was standing up and reaching for his clothes. 

"You can take a shower here, if you want to get cleaned up. Or you could spend the night," Harry added, as nonchalantly as possible. "Me mum never looks in here when she gets home."

"Thanks, but I better get outta here before it gets too late. I know some of the guys wanna hang out, for my birthday," Zayn told him without looking up from where he was tying his trainers. Harry wanted to shout at Zayn, to beg him to stay, and to make him promise that this wasn't going to be like the other times, but he stayed quiet. Once Zayn was fully dressed he turned back to Harry, and he must have seen something in his face, because he sat down next to him and took his hand in his. 

"Hey," he whispered, lifting Harry's chin with a finger so that he had to look him in the eye. "I meant everything I said earlier. I..." he paused, searching for the right words. "I can't change who I am overnight, and I've got a lotta shit I need to figure out, but I'm trying, okay? I'm not ready for people to find out about us, but I...I love you, and I want this to happen again. And again and again and again," he promised Harry, before placing one last kiss on his lips. "We good?"

"We're good," Harry nodded as Zayn stood up. The fact that Zayn looked reluctant to leave made it a bit easier to watch him walk away, but as soon as he was gone Harry felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. He fell back onto the bed in a heap, blinking tears from his eyes as he realized how wrong what they'd just done was. But it pained him to even think that, because it had felt so, so right, just as being with Liam felt right. Which meant that maybe Harry no longer knew right from wrong, and that he damn sure didn't know who he should be with. He wanted Liam but he needed Zayn. Or was it the other way around? Harry wasn't so sure now.

He eventually fell into a restless sleep, the choice he had to make waging a war in his mind that revealed itself in nightmare after nightmare. Want versus need. Right versus wrong. Liam versus Zayn.

 

*******

 

Harry's mind wasn't any clearer when he woke up the next morning, or the morning after that. If anything he felt worse. He finally had everything he'd ever wanted, and more, and he was about to ruin everything because he couldn't make a goddamn decision.

The worst part of it was that Harry knew what he wanted, and he knew that it was impossible. Not for the first time he wondered if there was something inherently wrong with him. Something that made him always want what he couldn't have, ensuring that he would never truly be happy. Because Harry knew that he didn't deserve what he wanted. He didn't deserve a boy as sweet as Liam and he didn't deserve a boy as fit as Zayn. He didn't deserve their smiles and their kisses and their love. And he damn sure didn't deserve both of them.

Because that was what he wanted: both of them. He wanted it more than anything, so much so that it felt more like a necessity than a desire. He wanted Liam waiting for him by his locker every morning and a note from Zayn waiting inside of it at the end of every day. He wanted Liam to hold him in his arms and kiss him while Zayn pulled at his hair and bit at his neck. He wanted both of their hands all over his body, both of them calling out his name. He wanted both of them, at the same time, and he knew that he would never be happy with anything less.

He was ashamed of these thoughts, knowing that they were wrong and that neither of them would ever agree to making them a reality. He wore his shame like a chain around his heart, hiding it away inside where no one could discover his secret. But he felt it, from the moment he woke up to the moment he went to bed. The chain squeezed his heart whenever Liam held his hand, and it got a little tighter every time Zayn smiled at him.

But he didn't know how to let either of them go, or how to ask for what he really wanted, so he created an uneasy truce between his feelings, making due with afternoons spent with Liam, and nights spent with Zayn. He felt guilty all the time, and fearful, because he knew that he couldn't continue on this way. It wasn't fair to Zayn and Liam, and it wasn't fair to his heart.

***

"Wanna watch another movie?" Liam asked, carding his hand through Harry's hair.

Harry looked up from where his head was resting on Liam's chest, both of them curled up on Harry's sofa. "Don't you need to get home before curfew?" he asked, a frisson of fear igniting in his chest.

Liam shook his head as he smiled. "Mum and dad are at some work thing. Won't be home for ages."

"Uh, I've got some homework I need to do..." Harry mumbled, the fear in his chest sinking down into his stomach.

"Come on," Liam pouted, sticking his lower lip out, knowing that Harry couldn't refuse him anything when he made that face. "Don't make me go home to an empty house."

"Yeah. Okay," Harry agreed, unable to find a reason to ask Liam to leave. He got up to put another video into the VCR, turning up the volume before he sat back down.

They'd barely made it through the opening credits when Harry heard the knock. It was soft, the way he'd grown accustomed to over the past few weeks, Zayn knowing that he didn't need to pound on the door, since Harry was always waiting on the other side of it for him. He willed his body not to react, praying that Liam hadn't heard it, and that Zayn would leave quietly. Praying that he could make it through one more night without his world being torn apart.

Liam didn't hear the knock, but he heard the creak of the front door when it opened, and he heard the footsteps coming towards the living room. Harry heard it too, his heart thundering in his chest as he struggled to push himself off of Liam, as if he could intercept any and all drama headed his way if he only acted quickly enough.

But where Harry's fear made him freeze, Liam's anger made him fast. He rolled out from under Harry and made it halfway across the room before Harry managed to stumble to his feet.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Liam laughed as he approached Zayn, but it wasn't the sweet giggle that Harry had fallen in love with. It sounded hollow, and harsh, and it made the fear in Harry's belly seep into his bones. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Zayn had frozen the moment he'd spotted Harry and Liam cuddled on the sofa, but he smirked now, spreading his arms wide as Liam got closer, as if welcoming whatever Liam wanted to give him. "I'm here for Harry. Just. Like. I. Am. Every. Night," he taunted.

Liam didn't even look to Harry for confirmation, just launched himself at Zayn, hitting him square in the chest with his shoulder. He drove Zayn into the wall behind him, hard enough to crack the drywall, and held Zayn there with one hand while he drew the other one back, ready to slam it into Zayn's face. But Zayn knew how to fight dirty, he'd been doing it for years, and a knee to Liam's groin dropped him to the ground before his fist could find purchase.

Zayn grabbed a fistful of Liam's hair, holding him up as he punched him in the face. Liam's head jerked to the side from the force of it, but he managed to wrap his hands around Zayn's arm, twisting it and pulling him to the floor. He was on top of him a second later, pinning him down with his hips as he hit him, again and again. Zayn bucked wildly, trying to get out from under him, and managing to get some punches in despite his position.

Harry screamed at them to stop, his heart in his throat as one fact played on repeat in his mind: this was all his fault. It was his fault that they were hurting each other. His fault that they were bleeding, and bruised. His fault that he'd let it get to this point, letting each boy think that he'd always be theirs.

"I can't take this anymore!" he yelled, as loud as he could, his voice cracking with the effort. They must have heard something in his tone, because they finally broke apart, Zayn pushing Liam off of him as they both turned to look at Harry. Harry backed away as Liam climbed to his feet and started towards him, knowing that he needed distance between them in order to say what he needed to say. He took a deep breath, and a moment to look at each of them before he started to speak, the words spilling from his lips far faster than they normally did, wanting to get it all out in the open and over with as quickly as possible despite knowing that everything would be different once the words were spoken.

"I tried and tried, but I can't choose between you. And I know that makes me a piece of shit, but that's just the way it is. I want both of you, and if you can't find a way to deal with that then we all just need to stay the fuck away from each other. Because this is killing me. I feel like I'm being torn apart, trying to choose between the two of you, and soon there won't be anything left of me. So if I can't have you both then I'm choosing me."

Harry was looking at the floor as he finished speaking, so he didn't see what the boys' reactions were. He kept his head down as he walked away from them and into the loo, locking the door behind him before turning on the shower and climbing into it without bothering to undress. He curled up in the corner of the bath, letting the water wash away his tears as he listened to them arguing outside of the door. He ignored them, fully aware that he'd lost them both and not wanting to hear them say goodbye. Instead he focused on his pain, welcomed it even, knowing that it - and not the happiness and love he'd felt since he'd returned to Bradford - was exactly what he deserved.

***

Just over a week passed before he spoke to them again. Less time than he'd expected, but still far longer than he'd hoped for. Eight days in which Harry had never felt more alone, all of his time spent mourning what he'd lost and wishing for what he couldn't have. He'd skipped school every day, begging his mum to go to school to pick up his assignments, knowing that if he had to look at either Zayn or Liam that he'd lose it. That he'd beg one or both of them to take him back, and that he'd be in the same position that he was before, torn between what he wanted and what he needed, and what he could have and what he couldn't.

He didn't have a lot of faith that Liam and Zayn would ever agree to be with him, the way he needed them to be, in fact he was sure that they never would, so he worked on accepting his fate. He decided that he'd been right all along, and that it was just his destiny to end up all alone. But he still held onto a tiny spark of hope, unable to let it go. A spark that bloomed into a flame when he opened his door one night to find Liam and Zayn on his doorstep.

It had been just over a week since he'd last seen them, and Harry was stunned all over again by their beauty. Liam was standing front and center, his hand raised to knock again and his eyes soft, while Zayn was off to the side, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked around, as if he wanted to be anywhere but standing at Harry's door with Liam by his side.

Harry just stared at them for a moment, his mind unable to process that they were actually there, together, before stepping aside to let them in. He stayed silent as they filed into his living room - the scene of the crime as he'd come to think of it - since he had no idea what to say.

After a minute or two of awkward silence where Harry looked at anything but them, Liam cleared his throat. "So we, um...we've talked and we're willing to give it a try, for you."

"Give what a try?" Harry asked, desperately needing clarification.

"Um, you know, both of us being with you, at the same time. Like you wanted."

"Really?" Harry asked, Liam's words breaking through the haze in his mind and putting a smile on his face as he took a step towards Liam.

"I mean, it's worth a try, yeah?" Liam smiled shyly, inching closer and closer to Harry as if he couldn't stand to be so far apart. "I dunno if it will work, but I couldn't give up on us without at least trying to do it your way." 

"So how the fuck's this supposed to work, anyway?" Zayn demanded, breaking his silence for the first time. His tone was harsh, his voice hard, but Harry knew him well enough to understand how vulnerable just being there must be making him.

Harry wasn't sure, actually. When he'd let himself imagine them agreeing to this - to sharing him - he'd always assumed that they'd want to take turns. Like, a shared custody type arrangement. Tuesday and Thursday with Liam and Monday, Wednesday and Friday with Zayn. Alternating weekends and holidays. He'd never imagined them both showing up at his house at the same time. Which wasn't to say that he didn't like the idea of it - him, Liam and Zayn, all together at once.

"Uh, we could watch a movie? Or play some video games?" Harry proposed hesitantly, hoping that doing something normal would help to cut through the tension that was threatening to smother him.

"Just put on a movie, nothing stupid though," Zayn said, at the exact same time that Liam chimed in with, "Video games sound good."

Harry blanched, not wanting to be put in the position of favoring one boy's opinion over the other's. This whole situation was far too surreal, the balance too delicate, and he didn't want to risk fucking it up over something so trivial. Luckily Liam relented. "A movie's fine," he sighed as he sunk down on one end of the sofa. "Probably just knows I'd kick his ass," he added under his breath. 

Harry bent down and grabbed the first video he got his hands on, not caring what it was as long as it gave them something other than each other to focus on. He turned around after putting it in the VCR to find that Zayn had joined Liam on the sofa, leaving a wide berth between them. Harry sat down in the middle and folded his arms over his stomach, taking care not to touch either boy. He wasn't sure what they expected, or what they were willing to do, and he wanted them to set the pace.

They watched the movie in silence for a few minutes, Harry's eyes darting from the screen to Zayn's fingers where they were fidgeting with a hole in his jeans, making the tear bigger and bigger by the second, to Liam's leg were it was bouncing just centimeters from his own, and back again. They both seemed just as nervous as he felt, and he wished that he could think of a way for them all to relax. But he still couldn't wrap his mind around why either of them had agreed to this, and he knew that he wouldn't be comfortable with the situation until he got some answers. 

"I just don't understand why you're both here," he blurted, causing both of their heads to turn in his direction. "What can I possibly offer you, that would make sharing me worth it?"

Liam slid a leg up onto the couch as he swiveled to face Harry. "You just don't get it, Haz. I love you, and there's no one in the world I'd rather spend time with. So, if this is what it takes to be with you then I'm willing to give it a go."

Harry turned his attention to Zayn, letting him know that he was anxious to hear what he had to say as well. Zayn hesitated, glancing at Liam before focusing completely on Harry. He was obviously uncomfortable opening up in front of Liam, but he must have seen something in Harry's face that made speaking up worth it. "It's not like I wanna be here, with  _him_ ," he started, rolling his eyes in Liam's direction, "but like, you've always done whatever you could to make me happy, and I just figured it was probably my turn. To try to make you happy, I mean."

"Well, thank you," Harry told them sincerely. "Thank you for giving this - us - a chance."

"I need a drink," Zayn groaned as he pushed himself off of the sofa and walked over to the liquor cabinet. Harry couldn't blame him, and if alcohol could help to dispel some of the awkwardness then he was all for it. 

"I missed you," Liam whispered once Zayn's back was to them, leaning over to skim his nose along Harry's jaw. Harry had missed him too, so he turned his head, giving Liam the opportunity to kiss him. Liam took full advantage, connecting their lips urgently, like he'd missed kissing Harry just as much as Harry had missed kissing him. His lips parted automatically, welcoming Liam's tongue with a moan as he felt Zayn settle down on the couch beside him, closer than before, their thighs touching from hip to knee.

He pulled away from Liam to look at Zayn, needing to make sure that he was okay with this. Zayn was looking right back at him, his eyes following the path of Liam's lips as they made their way down Harry's neck. His eyes were dark, not with anger but with something else, almost as if he was urging Harry to push things further.

Harry moved one of his hands to the nape of Liam's neck, and he tugged on the short hairs there, angling his head so that they could kiss again. His other hand found Zayn's thigh, and he squeezed it firmly before sliding his hand higher. His fingers found the outline of his cock, and he coaxed it to full hardness, the feel of it fattening up under his palm making him kiss Liam more forcefully.

And then there were hands on his body, touching him all over, the way he'd wanted for so long. Their bodies were crowded together, both of the boys halfway on top of Harry as he felt a hand on his throat, forcing him to turn towards Zayn. He went willingly, meeting his mouth eagerly with lips still slick from Liam. Zayn licked his way into Harry's mouth, pushing his tongue in as his hand slid down his chest. Harry sucked his tongue farther into his mouth, causing Zayn to groan, which only made Harry suck harder.

He fumbled behind him to reach for Liam, who was pressed up against his back, his lips at Harry's ear.

"I've been thinking about something all week, ever since you told me what you wanted," he whispered. "You wanna try it?"

Harry nodded, pulling away from Zayn so that he could drop his head back onto Liam's shoulder as Liam's arms slid around his sides, his fingers playing with the button of his jeans. Harry would have said yes to anything that Liam asked in that moment, wanting to make him as happy as he'd made him.

"Let's get you outta these jeans then, yeah?" Zayn murmured, his voice low and rough. He pushed Liam's hands out of the way so that he could get to Harry's zipper, his eyes meeting Liam's over Harry's shoulder, a look passing between them. Harry felt warm all over, imagining that they'd talked about this - about what they wanted to do with him - before coming to his house.

Liam pulled off his shirt while Zayn tugged at his jeans, and once he was undressed they each went to work on removing their own clothes. Harry didn't know where to look, or who to reach for first, Zayn's tattoos calling out to be touched while Liam's muscles demanded his attention.

They were both back on him in seconds, squeezing him in between them, his chest pressed against Liam's, Zayn's front warming his back. They were touching him all over, their hands brushing as they explored his body, and Harry had never felt more wanted, or more loved.

"Think you wanna show him how good you look sucking me off?" Zayn whispered, his hand on Harry's neck guiding him where he wanted him. Harry went happily, Liam's hands on his hips helping him to get on all fours. He felt Liam start to open him up, his fingers stretching him as he took Zayn into his mouth. He went down on him slowly, in time with the thrusts of Liam's fingers, Zayn's hand gripping his hair in encouragement. 

Zayn pulled him off before he could finish with a whispered, "Wanna come in you, babe." He moved him away from Liam, pulling him onto his lap facing him. Harry sank down with a moan as he looked over at Liam, who was leaning back on the opposite end of the sofa, biting his lip as he stroked himself. Harry lit up under his gaze, tossing his hair back and putting on a bit of a show as he started to ride Zayn. 

Liam jerked off slowly, his eyes never leaving Harry's, his length disappearing into his fist. He looked so fucking good, and Harry wanted more. He knew he was being greedy, but he wanted more, of both of them. He let Zayn slip out of him and he crawled back onto the couch, bending down to take Liam into his mouth. Liam ran his hands through Harry's hair, holding it off of his face with a loose fist as he watched Harry lick at his shaft.

He felt Zayn's hands on his hips a few seconds later, and he moaned around Liam as Zayn pushed into him. He wondered what they looked like, Zayn on his knees behind him, pounding into him, forcing him to take Liam farther into his mouth. He could picture it perfectly, and the vision, combined with Zayn's rough thrusts and the taste of Liam on his tongue, was almost enough to push him over the edge.

And then Liam started to talk to him, telling him how good he looked, and how hard he wanted him to come, and Zayn fucked into him just right, at the absolute perfect angle, and Harry lost it. He came as hard as he could ever remember, his whole body shaking with the force of it, and Zayn followed suit, spilling into him as his hips beat out an erratic pace.

Harry pulled away from Liam, trying to catch his breath, but Liam had him (he always did), wrapping his strong arms around him and pulling him onto his lap like he weighed nothing. Harry leaned back against Liam as he filled him up, wincing at the burn. He was still sensitive from coming, but that didn't stop him from rolling his hips in an effort to make Liam feel good. Liam's arms stayed folded across his chest, his breath hot on Harry's neck as he fucked up into him, hard. By now he knew what Harry liked, and knew that Harry wasn't going to break if he got a little rough with him. 

Harry's head rolled to the side so he could look at Zayn, who was fisting himself lazily, the sight in front of him appealing enough that his cock was already showing signs of interest. He licked his lips as he watched as Harry started to get hard again too, before getting up and moving to stand in front of Harry.

Harry's lips parted automatically, his mouth already watering at the thought of getting Zayn to come again. But Zayn had a different plan, and he dropped to his knees in front of Harry, his hands sliding up Harry's thighs as he swallowed him down. Zayn's mouth was wet, and hot, and Harry had to will himself not to rock his hips up into it.

"How's that feel, love?" Liam asked as he held Harry's hips still with bruising force, grinding into him at a torturously slow pace. "You like this? Both of us touching you like this? Both of us working together to get you off?"

Harry couldn't even answer before he was coming again, spilling into Zayn's mouth as Liam and Zayn's names fell from his lips, over and over, like they were the only words Harry cared about in the whole world. As soon as he'd finished Zayn was back on his feet, his hand a blur on his length as Liam started to really give it to Harry, fucking into him harshly, the way he knew Harry loved.

"You look so good, Harry, all flushed and fucked out. Gonna look even better covered in my come," Zayn moaned as he started to come, thick, white streaks landing on Harry's chest, just over his heart. Liam started to spill as well, holding Harry tight as he groaned words of love into his shoulder.

Zayn collapsed onto the sofa next to them, his head resting against Liam's shoulder, and they all stayed like that for a moment, the sounds of their breathing the only noise in the room. As Harry came down from his high he wondered if things would go back to being awkward now, but he was surprised to find that he felt calm, and incredibly content. He was happier than he could ever remember being, and for once he felt like he was worthy of such joy. He finally had everything he'd ever wanted, and for the first time he believed that he truly deserved to be this happy, and this loved.

He looked from Zayn to Liam, and from Liam to Zayn, his eyes wide with wonder and his heart full of love. He loved both of them, so, so much, and they both loved him, and Harry couldn't help but think that this was just the start of their story.

 

_**The End...** _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments make me happy, and I would love to know what you think of the story!


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